


One Day

by Nothing_You_Can_Prove, Tjwcroft



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, Drinking, Emotional Trauma, F/F, Feels, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Party, Physical Disability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, The Dark Room, The Talk, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-01-15 23:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12330873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nothing_You_Can_Prove/pseuds/Nothing_You_Can_Prove, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tjwcroft/pseuds/Tjwcroft
Summary: One Day...One day, you climb onto a moving train with a strange girl and you talk about your futures.One day, you wake up in hell.One day, anything can happen.Written by TjwCroft and Nothing_You_Can_Prove.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: If you are looking for a nice, happy story... best turn around now.

_10:22, May 7, 2010 - Lumber train box car_

"One day, I'm going to climb Everest..."

With this announcement, hazel eyes shifted to the punk sat opposite on the rickety train carriage they had hitched a ride on to ditch school. Determination filled her voice and gaze, deadly serious. It was hard not to feel a little inspired by the intensity of her proclamation.

 _And I thought moving away from Arcadia Bay was ambitious..._  The short haired punk mused, mind wandering. To think of herself anywhere else other than this shithole she so desperately wanted to escape from was… strange. She'd grown up here, the best -and worst- years of her life. Memories that made her smile, others that brought her to tears, mostly they just made her angry now for their bittersweetness.

For now, she shook off those feelings and focused on the here and now.

"That seems so far away... Like it barely exists..." Chloe replied, still bewildered. "And why would you want to go somewhere so cold?!" She let out a shiver.

The blonde seemed like the type to prefer the sun and sea, beaches and wild parties. Not freezing her ass off halfway up a rocky cliff face. Given, she didn't know the other girl  _that_ well, but still...

Rachel eyed the punk, pondering if she should reveal her reasoning. Deciding to take a chance, she took a deep breath.

"It's on my bucket list."

Chloe raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Your what?"

"My bucket list... You know, like the movie with Morgan Freeman?" The blonde wasn't sure if her new friend was genuinely unsure of what the term was or simply confused. "A list of things that you want to do before you die."

Looking down at her shoes, Chloe pondered the idea herself. "I remember the movie. I'm pretty sure I cried at the end." The young girl looked back up to her ditching partner. "I suppose my question is... what inspired you to make one?"

Rachel met Chloe's inquiring gaze and shrugged, not yet ready to explain the core of her motivations. "Just because." Predictably, the response did little to convince, so the blonde diverted the punk's attention instead. "What would you put on your bucket list?"

"Really? You have to ask?" The short-haired girl returned a disbelieving glare. "To get the fuck out of Arcadia! That's for sure..." She paused, realizing that was probably on both of their lists... "To see my friend Max again... To go to Paris... I'm with you, I want to explore the world."

Of course, she had always planned on adventuring with Max. As much as she wanted to keep on believing in that dream, she'd been let down too many times to put her faith in losing bets. So, maybe she should start looking for another first mate. Honestly, Rachel wouldn't be a bad replacement.

Giggling at the outburst, Rachel pulled out a pen and notepad. "What if we wrote them down, so we can complete them someday?"

Carefully, she sectioned off the paper to make a table. On the left side, she wrote her own name and bucket items. On the right, she wrote Chloe's name at the top, leaving the space below blank. The other girl watched her at work, intrigued to see how this would turn out. She had never been one for dreams, well not after… everything. The future seemed bleak and meaningless, fine to piss away.

Now done, Rachel handed the notepad to her companion. Deciding to humor her, the rebellious teen took it from her. Glancing down at the blank space under her name, she began to write. By the end, she had filled her side just as much as Rachel had.

The last item on both of their lists was the same sentence:

_One day, I'm going to climb Everest._

* * *

_00:09, April 24, 2013 - The Dark Room_

_Thump-thump._

Rachel's head was pounding, loudly.

_Thump-thump._

It felt like a train had run over her brain. Repeatedly. Worse than any hangover she'd ever experienced. Not only that, but her hands were painfully bound behind her back and ankles constrained.

_THUMP-thump._

Panic began clouding her mind as the model attempted to recall the prelude to this dire situation. A Vortex Club party. That much she could remember with ease. Both she and Chloe had gone, thought it would be fun. Why wouldn't it be?

Then… Nathan. He'd been leering at them - well, more than usual. The epitome of creepiness. After that, he had offered them drinks...

"Rach…"

The single, pathetic sounding noise made her freeze. She's heard it a million times before -sometimes angry, other times happy, and in a million other ways on the emotional spectrum- but never like…  _that_.

Her eyes flickered open, a move she instantly regretted as she was blinded by a bright flash. Pinpricks of light pierced her vision, disorienting. Her throat felt dry as sandpaper, limbs heavy. Just  _what_ the hell was going on?

"Agh..." she groaned as the distorted spots danced across her eyes, recoiling all too late. "Chloe... Are you ok-?"

The question was swallowed by sputtering, coughing and gasping as the air was ripped from her lungs. What felt like a pointed shoe had been rammed into her stomach, winding her. Struggling for breath, she curled up instinctively.

"Shut up, slut! How she is is  _none_  of your business!" a harsh voice demanded, agitated.

A meek whimper escaped Chloe's lips as the same foot collided with her own sternum. Rachel had never heard her make a sounds like that - so vulnerable and weak. It was more like the cry of an injured animal not long destined for this life, pursued by a pack of hungry wolves. That was  _not_ the Chloe Price she knew… and loved.

The voice she recognized… Nathan Prescott. He sounded very on edge, more so than usual. Probably strung out on some drug, an upper of sorts. That boy could have a veritable cocktail of highs running through his system. Footsteps from his erratic pacing echoed, burning itself into her mind.

When she felt brave enough, she slowly opened her eyes prepared this time for the harsh light. What she saw shook every fiber of her being, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

Her cheek was pressed against some sort of white vinyl sheet, covering a concrete floor and wrapped up towards the smooth, black walls. It creased perfectly at the corners. Hazel eyes roamed towards the ceiling, a grid of black pipes and echo cancelling plates above.

_That explains why everything sounds so muffled..._

Bright fluorescent bulbs illuminated the majority of the space, but were amplified with blindingly bright photography lights and reflectors.

Somehow managing to lift her head, she spotted her blue-haired punk. Kneeling, stripped down to a shredded tank top and shorts, hair disheveled and limbs bound. Tear streaks ran down her cheeks, hours in the making. The cheekbone under her right eye was darkened, heavily bruised, as though she had been struck repeatedly. She thought back to when they first met all those years ago at the Firewalk concert.

A bruise had marked the start of their whirlwind friendship… and it might just end it all, too.

"Chloe… hang on…" she called out, finding enough strength to struggle against her restraints unsuccessfully. "Leave her alone, you  _fuck!_ " she spat, moving enough to bring their attacker into view. Tunnel vision took over, feeling nothing but pure hatred.

Nathan regarded her with a smug glance, shrugging as he picked up his camera. Crouching down, he brought the viewfinder to one of his icy blue eyes. His jacket laid on the back of the couch, leaving him in a pair of tan slacks and a white polo. Decorating the front was a sizable blood splatter, one of the sleeves ripped apart at the seam.

Once again, Rachel was blinded as the flash went off. As the camera shutter clicked, she began fading in and out of consciousness, brain overloaded with light. Right here, right now… this had to be hell.

* * *

Finally coming to again -after what could have been minutes or hours- she found herself slumped on the leather couch. Laid out of the coffee table like some sick exhibition piece were a series of photos. Of her and Chloe in various states of undress and torment. Some were black and white, others in color.  _All_  of them made her stomach churn.

How had she not picked up on the warning signs?

Vision much less blurry, her eyes focused past the coffee table. She noticed Nathan straight away, snapping shot after shot with growing fervor. When he did finally move for another angle, Rachel screamed as loudly as her lungs would allow.

He'd stripped the bluenette of her tank top, the pale skin of her torso dotted with deep, dark bruises. Blood oozed from her nose and a gash on her forehead. It trickled down off her chin and down her body, running like thin red rivers. However far gone she had seemed before was nothing compared to now. Worse than dead.

Too weak to even offer a hint of resistance, she barely registered the piercing scream emanating from her best friend. Had she been lucid enough, she would have worried for her friend's fate. Wondered what would happen next and fought. Right now… she just wanted it to end. One way or another...

"Now now... It'll be your turn soon enough, Miss Amber. Just be patient." Another sickening voice filled Rachel's ears. "Unlike how you spend your time in my class..."

The blonde's head shifted towards the voice, met with the cold, calculating stare of Mark Jefferson. He stood behind the couch, eyeing her up like a predator might its next meal.

"You... How..." Her voice faltered, starting to understand.

All the small details in the bigger picture she had glossed over. She thought back to his classes, as he'd talked about capturing the emotions of his subjects, and trapping the subtle details...

The monster looming over her leered, predatory eyes roaming every inch of skin he could find. She had seen that look in his eyes before, dimmed down to hide the intent. What was he after? His reasoning? Did it really matter?

Offering a twisted smirk, he proceeded to walk around the couch. He was done with her. He made his way to kneel by Nathan, tapping the younger man on the shoulder. "Nate, I'm leaving for the night. I do have a class to teach today. One I fully expect you to attend."

Nathan looked up at the middle-aged teacher, a sick grin on his face, and nodded. "I know... I know... I'll be done in a bit. I'll clean up and get these two taken care of." He sighed nonchalantly, as if he was being admonished by a parent for being up past his bedtime watching TV. "I'll see you in the morning, Sir," he finished, before turning back to Chloe with the camera.

Jefferson shook his head with a soft chuckle and stood back up, turning towards the captive blonde on the couch. "Miss Amber, you've been an exceptional model tonight. I look forward to working with you tomorrow." The way he was examining her now - eyes roaming the exposed flesh of her body hungrily as if he wanted to devour her - made her feel ill.

Instead of replying, she held his gaze with a death glare that would have unnerved the average person. For whatever reason, he seemed to take some sick pleasure from it - offering a twisted grin before walking to the entrance of this horrid place.

A few moments later she heard a heavy door slam shut, the chamber being left in pure silence with the singular exception being the clicks of the camera Nathan kept using.

"Nathan..." Rachel croaked, her throat raw from her previous scream.

The clicking stopped.

"Nathan, please... Leave her alone... Take me instead..." she pleaded desperately, trying to struggle to get free. "I'll do anything you want... Just let her  _go_..."

The boy stood up, turning to face her. "Anything, skank? Really?" He began to walk towards her, and set down his camera on the coffee table, covering some of the pictures from this night of hell.

Surprised he was even listening to her requests at this point, she nodded vehemently. A single tear rolled down her cheek, one of the last she had left to give, as she prepared herself for whatever that sick and twisted mind of his would come up with.

_Anything... I can take anything... Just so long as he leaves her alone..._

Her eyes momentarily met Chloe's - pleading for her angel to be left unharmed. As hard as this had been, nothing would compare to seeing Rachel hurt in any way, shape or form.

"Rach... Don't..." That single mumbled thing was all she could manage.

Closing the final space between them, he grabbed her by the roots of her hair. Fingers tugging, he forced her into an awkward sitting position, her legs off to one side. When he was satisfied she would stay 'seated', he let go. Blue eyes met hazel, a mad glint overshadowing any remnants of sanity.

"How about I make you watch as I  _kill_  her instead?"

Rachel's eyes went wide, realizing he was never going to accept her terms. "No. No, no... NO!  _You sick_   _bastard!_ " The blonde's screams were muffled by the echo canceling tiles. "Leave her  _alone_  you fucking sadist!"

Her enraged words fell on deaf ears, the blond boy skulking over to one of the side walls of this chamber. A number of blades stood on display, light reflecting off metal. Fingers hovering over his choices, he settled on a short sword. Hefting it in his hands to get a feel for its weight, he turned back to the defeated bluenette spread out on the vinyl sheet.

"Fuck you Nathan!  _Fuck_  you! I hope you rot in  _hell!_ " came the desperate screams from the couch.

He closed the final steps and looked down at his subject. Slowly, he brought the sword around and trailed it across the skin of her stomach, stopping in line with her spine.

The punk looked up at her tormentor, and gave him a final glare. " _Go fuck yourself, Prick-scott..._ "

A hollow laugh escaped his throat as he shoved the blade through her, meeting some resistance. Unfazed, he pushed until a sickening crack resonated through the room as he broke through the bluenette's lower spine.

With that sound, the room grew eerily silent save one horrifying exception…

The guttural gurgling escaping Chloe's lips.

All Rachel could manage was a silent scream, her entire world crumbling before her very eyes. Tears flooded her sight, blood rushing past her ears deafening her in shock. Her mind and body  _refused_ to accept reality. It all had to be a terrible nightmare… except it wasn't.

So traumatized, she never even registered the splatter of blood and brains now decorating the wall behind her own perfect blue butterfly.


	2. Escape Arcadia|Escape Arcadia

~~**Escape Arcadia|Escape Arcadia** ~~

_13:46, October 7, 2013 - Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital:_

For the third time that day, Rachel watched on teary eyed as her blue-haired punk friend stumbled. Legs unable to carry her weight, she plummeted to the floor in a pathetic heap of limbs. The nurse helped steady her before she totally collapsed, not even wincing at the bluenette's frustratedly colorful language.

They had all known it wouldn't work, but Chloe had insisted.

Each failure was harder to watch than the last, an ongoing struggle for the past half a year. Yes, they had escaped the dark room - thanks to David Madsen's timely intervention. Yes, their tormentors had been punished - not  _nearly_ as much as they deserved; not even death was enough… and yes, the events of that day had left their mark. Mentally, emotionally and physically - for Chloe most of all. Ever since that day, she had not once managed a single step.

Anger fading in the wake of overwhelming failure, the blue-haired punk was helped back into her wheelchair. As she sat there, her once mischievous blue eyes glossed over with defeat. Right now, she was hanging on by a bare thread of hope. Once or twice, she had voiced her desire to just… give up. Somehow, Rachel managed to drag her from that mindset each and every time, practically promising that it would get better.

So far, that had been a lie.

Despite herself, the blonde managed a grimace. Two truths and a lie… the game they had played so long ago now. The day they first decided to write their bucket lists. Looking back, she wondered if they had simply tempted fate.

In a twisted turn of events, they had achieved their first mutual entry: escape Arcadia Bay.

Swallowing back tears, she put on a brave face for her friend. Compared to what Chloe had suffered that day, she had gotten off lightly. Left any longer in that hellhole and she may have been subjected to a similar fate. Of course, the blonde had her scars. Plenty of them - marking her body and face. So much for being a model for anything other than crime reconstructions…

It'd been nearly six months since that horrifically fateful night. When  _everything_ had changed. Their lives turned upside down, shattered into a million pieces with little to no hope of salvaging. In that time, they had moved to Seattle together, their shift paid for by Blackwell. The school; hoping to avoid backlash for the incident one of its teachers had orchestrated; had ensured their housing and medical bills were covered for the time being.

That day, Chloe had been lucky - the blonde scoffed at the word - in that the sword shoved through her had been aimed low. The blade in question found its way between her T11 and T12 vertebrae, leaving her upper half to function perfectly fine. The two bones had been separated forcefully, irreparably severing the cord in a sickening pop Rachel would  _never_ be able to forget.

No matter how hard she tried...

" _Rach..."_

_When the blonde opened her eyes, she was met with the horrifyingly familiar black and white chamber… where it had all gone wrong. On repeat, she watched their tormentor toy with them like dolls, camera fixed to his hand._

_Plastered to his face was a blood chilling grin, glazed blue eyes. Like something out of a horror film. Then, a large oozing hole materialized in his forehead, red lines staining his face and the wall behind. It almost looked like an entry in an art exhibit._

_The sight made her want to scream… but she couldn't._

"Rach?" Chloe put her hand on her best friend's leg, earning a sharp cry.

A set of panicked hazel eyes frantically searched the therapy room until they settled on tired blue orbs. Muted concern barely hid the much deeper, darker emotions those eyes conveyed. Only Rachel would ever have a single hope of decipher them, and maybe not even her.

"Let's get out of here. Let's go home..." her wheelchair-bound friend -how much more were they than friends now? They'd not talked about it - requested as she began to wheel herself out.

Shaking herself back to their miserable reality, she stood and picked up the backpack that had become her purse as of late - filled with pain meds, medical documents, medical supplies and her laptop.

Had she been told several months ago that she would be doing this, helping her best friend live with a severe spinal injury - she would have laughed, accused them of being high. Now, it had become part of her daily routine. Honestly, she felt responsible. If she hadn't insisted they go to that damn party...

Sighing, she shouldered the bag's weight and followed her friend out, opening doors as needed all the way to the parking lot. Whereas before they would have chatted away about all kinds of irrelevant shit, they quickly fell into the more recent habit of silence. They began loading the retrofitted SUV in such a practiced and perfected routine that took just a few minutes, no mention of the modifications the vehicle required.

Rachel took her usual position in the driver's seat - odd after years of predominantly playing passenger - eyes locked on an undefined spot in the distance. Patiently, she waited for the whirring of platforms to stop, indicating Chloe had been moved into her place on the passenger side. As the door closed itself, the blonde started the vehicle and pulled out.

It wasn't until they'd cleared a few blocks that the silence was broken.

"You were back in that...  _place_... weren't you?"

The question cut painfully through the silence, straight to the core, and unwavering. But its origin wasn't an accusation by any means. There was no malice or anger in the question. Only concern.

"I'm fine..." the blonde lied, shrugging off the question as best as she could.

She didn't expect the fist that slammed into an armrest. "Damn it, Rach! We both know that's not true!"

As much as she wanted to keep her cool, she just couldn't. It wasn't aimed at the blonde for denying her issues. No, not for even a second. It  _was_ aimed at Nathan and Jefferson for doing this to them. The two  _fucks_  who had hurt her angel. She only wished  _she_ had been the one to put a bullet in Nathan's brain, not David.

About to continue her angry rant, she paused. Her heart dropped at the solitary tear slowly descending down the driver's cheek. That was not what she wanted.

"Shit... I'm sorry..." She raised a hand, letting it rest on Rachel's arm. "I didn't mean to yell... I just..." the bluenette faltered for words as a tear flowed down her own cheek. "I worry about you... I can't lose you..."

If she thought she had needed Rachel before, that was nothing compared to now. She  _hated_ having to rely on her -just as much emotionally as physically- and on occasion had told her to go. As much as she didn't want that, she didn't want to be resented. The blonde never did, though.

How long would it be before she got tired of it all?

A soft sob broke from the once cheerful angel who was now driving. Now all that remained was a husk of the exuberance she'd once held. Not wanting to make it worse, the bluenette didn't say another word, letting the awkward silence hang.

The vehicle turned into the parking spot of their apartment on the corner of Pine and Belmont, and Rachel shut off the engine. She took several deep breaths, working to calm herself down. It was only then she realized how tightly she'd been gripping the steering wheel. Knuckles white from pressure. The blonde could feel the softened gaze of electric blue eyes resting on her, and she knew that the only thing they held was love and concern.

"I... I know you worry... I know you do, Chlo..." she took another deep breath, readying herself, "I just have so much trouble thinking about myself. I only care about you." The admission wasn't accusatory. It was heartfelt. An attempt to open the topic of more with the girl she loved so dearly.

"It's okay, Rach. It's okay if you take time for yourself. I can't let you burn yourself out because you're so focused on me... I'm not completely dependant. I'm not a total vegetable..."

As those words left her lips, she faltered. Just how much worse would it have been if her spine had been damaged higher up? Shuddering at the thought, she recalled the fully paralyzed patients she'd seen in the ICU. Watching the nurses attend to their every function, often no hope of recovery to any degree.

That alone was enough to petrify her.

* * *

Chloe always insisted on opening the door when they came home together. It was something about her independance, maintaining she still had some despite her injury. To Rachel, it was a sign that there was still hope that the punk continued to express her rebellious attitude regardless of the circumstances. Hope that one day things would get better.

The door swung open to their apartment. "Home sweet home..." the bluenette barked out a laugh, "Never thought I'd say that un-sarcastically about  _anywhere_."

She rolled herself over the threshold, heading towards past the entrances to her bathroom and bedroom on the right, and Rachel's room on the left. The doors to their rooms lined up, which had been endlessly helpful. Particularly when Chloe had first been learning to manage her injury, the punk falling out of her bed, screaming in pain or because of the nightmares. Or both.

Neither one was easy to witness.

Rachel walked behind her roommate, following her to the living room/dining room/kitchen that spread the width of their apartment. The bluenette wheeled herself towards the couch while the blonde went and set the backpack on their dining room table, stepping over to the fridge to grab something to drink.

She swung the stainless door open, looking at the stocked contents for a soda. Her eyes paused on something she hadn't expected to find. Sitting on the lower shelf of the fridge was a six-pack of beer. It wasn't necessarily good beer by any stretch of the imagination, but the lime green glass was all too familiar. Memories of the junkyard hideout came flooding back, thoughts she'd buried upon moving to Seattle. Neither of them had touched a drop of alcohol since that night. They'd never talked about their self-enforced sobriety either.

They didn't talk about a lot of things. Certain topics were left unspoken.

"Chlo... Where... Where did this come from?" the blonde turned around, jumping in shock as she found the punk immediately behind her.  _When did you get so sneaky on that thing, Chlo?_  She stepped out of the way, as blue eyes rested on green glass.

"I slipped the guy on desk duty last night a twenty to get this," came the deadpan answer. No explanation.

Rachel could do nothing more than offer a very confused look in return.

"You didn't know the drinks were spiked. You didn't know Nathan was so deranged. You didn't know Jefferson was a sadistic fuck..." The wheelchair-bound girl was gripping her armrests tightly, but relaxed as she continued. "But despite  _all_  of those things, you feel like it's your responsibility to become a saint who doesn't drink, who doesn't smoke, who doesn't even imagine a life outside of caring for me."

She took a moment to compose herself.

"What I'm trying to say, Rach, is I want to get drunk with my best friend again. I want to have fun again. Because if I can't do that... If I can't do anything but survive through my days as I fail to walk week after week... I'm not gonna be able to keep going. So grab a beer for each of us, and come sit with me on the couch. Let's throw on a movie like old times, and just have fun. Because I miss having fun with my best friend."

The modelesque blonde considered her options: drink or don't.

Eyeing up the bottles, then her friend, she steadied her resolve and grabbed two beers. Popping off the tops, she passed one to Chloe with shaking hands. Giving her a gentle smile, the bluenette took the bottle, letting her fingers linger on her best friend's hand to reassure her.

"On three?" she suggested hesitantly.

Pushing back the apprehension, Rachel nodded. "One… two… three…"

Simultaneously, they brought the bottles to their lips, amber liquid seeping from the opening into their mouths. The taste was bitter at first, flavored with the memories of that night. No, she wouldn't  _let_ that fucker ruin this. She couldn't…

Instead, she recalled a time when they had gone to the park, spied on people through a viewfinder. Put her acting skills to use in 'procuring' some wine. Those memories, while they had sad undertones because of her father, were much happier than any other she could think up right now. Pulling the bottle away, she noticed Chloe staring at the bottle.

"Wish that asshole had gotten something  _better_ …" she managed a chuckle, more genuine than any Rachel had heard for… months.

Mirroring the flicker of happiness, the blonde smiled. "Agreed."

Maybe for a moment, they could pretend things were fine…

They soon fell into old habits, polishing off the entirety of the pack. It hit them much harder than before, unused to old drinking paces. Now they remembered why they had drunk in the first place - to numb the background pain. Except their new fears were  _very much_ in the foreground, constantly hounding them while awake and asleep. It may only last for a while before cruelly plunged them back into the deep end, but for now they felt… less burdened.

"I miss weed," Chloe announced suddenly.

Some time during the drinking session, they had started spooning. Currently, she had her damaged back pressed against the blonde - who was laying on her side pressed into the back of padded seat. Her arm rested firmly over her friend, ensuring she didn't roll off the edge.

"Sure has been a while…" Rachel agreed wistfully.

Going sober so suddenly had its effects but after everything that happened, she  _hated_ the thought of being so… vulnerable. Instinctively, she tightened her grip on the blue-haired punk.

"Uh... Rach?" A soft giggle came from the bluenette. "Uh, so, I know we're drunk and all, but I didn't think you'd get grope-y so soon..."

Confused, the blonde looked down at her arm over her friend, and realized that she'd unexpectedly tightened her grip on her friend's breast. For what must have been the first time in years, a bright pink blush completely hijacked her face.

In that moment, the most alien sound possible came from the woman she was currently hugging. The sound of deep, gut-shaking laughter.

The model-turned-caretaker stared at her friend, jaw veritably hanging open in utter shock at the development. Her surprise lasted for only a moment, soon joining the other girl in a fit of giggles.

"Sorry, old habits…"

Chloe raised an eyebrow suggestively, her trademark shit-eating grin wide. "Uh huh... Sure..." She sighed heavily, looking at the empty bottle in her hand. "Shit... We're out."

The bluenette; intoxicated and nostalgic; shifted herself into a sitting position and pushed herself up, remembering very suddenly that her legs didn't work. She pitched forward, a surprised cry escaping her lips as she slammed into the coffee table in front of them, squarely on her collarbones.

A single, morbid laugh left the lips of the blonde, before she cried out to her friend, panicked. "Shit! Chloe! Are you okay?!" She quickly moved to the bluenette's side, concern showing on her face.

Chloe was stunned.  _How exactly do you forget your legs are broken?_  She pondered the idea, realizing that she'd been enjoying herself enough to let the past stay there, at least momentarily.

"I'm fine. Just tried to do what felt right. Forgot my legs don't work." A pained grin crossed her face. "I'm fine though. Just hurts a tad." She grabbed the edge of the table, pushing herself up and shifting back to the couch.

Rachel stared in disbelief. "You did  _what_?" The blonde tried to comprehend the meaning of the words her best friend had just uttered.

When their eyes met, they burst out into a fresh round of laughter. Just like before when their most pressing concern had been ditching class. Despite the initial apprehension, it began to dawn on her that tonight had been a good idea, getting to let loose for a while.

They sure as hell needed it.

* * *

_10:12, October 11, 2013 - Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital:_

Once again, they were in physical therapy, trying to get Chloe to walk. There were, however, a number of notable differences.

For one, the attitudes of the young women was more positive. Since their week started, morale had definitely improved. The bluenette had been smiling more, putting more effort into everyday tasks. She'd also been enthusiastic about the therapy, more earnestly forcing herself to try harder.

It was heartwarming to see, in turn inspiring Rachel to smile more freely. Without the very obvious reminder of a wheelchair, she might not even notice anything had changed… to an extent. Still, she couldn't complain at all. Shit, this was the best things had been in six months.

Maybe even longer...

For the first time in almost a month, Rachel was standing next to the bluenette, providing support as the broken girl tried to move herself forward.

"You've got this, Chlo! You can do it!" she cheered, pushing her friend to move a leg forward.

The bluenette raised a glaring eyebrow, before concentrating wholly on the task ahead of her.  _It's just a leg. I just need to move it forward and put weight on it._  The thought made her chuckle slightly. Science said it was probably much more complicated than that, but she refused to accept that.

 _Fuck science_.

Focusing on the toes underneath her, she put every thought into walking.

Her right leg stayed still.

"Damnit..." she mumbled angrily, willing the stupid numb limb to obey.

A soft hand found its way on top of hers. A pair of hazel eyes looked lovingly into her own blue ones. Eyes that believed in her. Eyes that felt for her. Eyes that knew every bit of her.

Her right leg shifted forward, just a few inches.

Her own blue eyes showed more shock than anything else.

She kept pushing, and the leg swung forward more, the whole length of a step. Without a second thought, she followed up by going to put weight on it move to front.

That idea didn't go so well. Without warning, she crumpled forward, slamming into the ground with a heavy thud into the mat beneath her.

"Ouch..." was the only word that came from the punk's lips.

Despite the bad timing, or perhaps because of it, the blonde chuckled. Chloe glared at her for a second, the irritation fading into an eye roll then a smile of her own. They had been fucking depressed for so long, it felt good to laugh. Even if it was at a slight failure.

"You haven't walked in six months, and you expect to put weight down on your first step?" came the playfully biting reply from the blonde beside her. "I mean, I don't know that I can feel bad for you on that one..." Rachel saw motion by the door - a doctor walk in, calling her over. "Can you get back up with their help? I'll be right back."

Waiting for some confirmation - an over exaggerated shrug - the blonde made her way towards the tall chestnut-haired, bearded man with a white coat over his shoulders. "Miss... Amber. Right?"

She nodded, confused. "That's me. You are?" she questioned, wondering who this man was.

"I'm Dr Caulfield. I'm the head of Neurology here at Grey-Sloan." His name, matched with his appearance, caught her interest instantly. "I've been assigned to Miss Price's case. I understand you're her caretaker. Is that correct?" He gave her no opportunity to ask anything personal.

"I am. What do you mean, assigned?" Rachel asked, confused. Chloe had been signed off as unlikely to regain motion months ago. "She's already got a doctor."

He met her gaze impassively. "Perhaps I've made myself unclear. She's not getting better, Miss Amber."

Rachel stared at him blankly, blinking several times. Yes, she could hear him speak but… she didn't understand why those words were being spoken. Especially not after what she had just seen, and Chloe's newfound sense of hope.  _Her_ hope...

"Bullshit. She literally just took a step!" Something felt wrong with what he was telling her. "How can you tell me she's not getting better?"

This man, who may or may not be who she thought he was, sighed softly. This obviously wasn't the first time he'd had to deliver this news. Possibly not the first time today. Though, he sounded and looked more affectionate than would be normally expected.

"Unless this woman is a medical..." he paused, making a sound mixed between a cough and a sob. "A medical miracle, Miss Amber, the nerves in her spinal cord are never going to regrow. What's making her move, today, and maybe for a few months, is fluid buildup. Fluid buildup that is going to one day kill her." He disguised another odd noise under his breath.

"What's your name?" was the only response to his statement, choosing actively to ignore the words he was saying in favor of his reaction to the news he was giving. "What's your full name?"

He remained impassive, refusing to answer her, staring stoically into her hazel eyes.

"Do you..." Rachel took a deep, soothing breath. "Do you have a daughter... named Max?"

His gaze broke from hers, eyes averting. "I know who you are, Miss Amber, and I know who Ch…" he faltered, swallowing hard as he backtracked, "Miss Price is, too. You don't want to know the answer to that question. You already have more than enough to deal with."

With that, he turned, making a beeline towards the door. He didn't even wait around long enough for Rachel to call after him.

Confused, she turned finding the bluenette in her chair again, having once more snuck up silently to the blonde's position. "Who was that?" she asked, a determined grin on her face.

"New doctor. Thinks you don't stand a chance. I told him to fuck off," she lied.

This time, her lie was more convincing. At this rate, would she ever be able to utter a single truth? She hated herself for lying to her perfect blue butterfly with broken wings, but maybe this wasn't the right time to bring this up. Maybe she needed more information first.

And maybe… she was just being a coward with too many convenient excuses… not that the self awareness changed a single thing. It just made her feel guilty. Well,  _guiltier_.

"Well, aren't you a badass?" the punk chuckled, slugging the model's shoulder playfully. "Come on. I feel like going to a bar tonight." And with that, the bluenette was off, wheeling away towards the door, glancing back expectantly at the blonde to follow her.

The look went quickly from expectant to worried.

"Rach... You.. You're bleeding..."

That was the last thing Rachel heard before she collapsed to the ground, blacking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No. I won't apologize. You can't make me.  
> -TjwCroft
> 
> Told you all it'd be fun...  
> -Nothing_You_Can_Prove


	3. Actually start a bucket list|What she said

~~_**Actually**_   **start a bucket list|What she said**~~

_09:53, Saturday October 12th, 2013 - Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital ICU:_

The room was dead silent save for the infuriating, repetitive beeping of the heart monitor. And that seemed to be speeding up ever so slightly as the seconds ticked by. Rachel was lying on a hospital bed, half-tucked under the sheet. Hazel eyes blazed with fire at the now familiar chestnut-haired man and a blonde woman.

Only moments before, Chloe had left in the search of food leaving her alone. Neither adult had even opened their mouth yet, and they were already receiving death stares.

"Miss Amber..." the man began, only to be cut off within instants of finishing her name.

"You have  _got_  to be fucking kidding me.  _You're_  not here for me. You're, as you said yourself, the head of Neuro... This isn't..." her words failed her as she began to question who the woman was.

"Miss Amber. Rachel. Can I call you Rachel?" the woman, who had a softer voice than she'd expected, asked her kindly.

The blonde nodded, suddenly beginning to feel very, very nervous. She needed Chloe back.

_Now._

"Rachel, my name is Heather. Doctor Carter, Cardiovascular Surgery, if you prefer the formalities. I don't." This new doctor shot the blonde girl a disarming grin as she sat on the side of the bed. All of this an attempt to bring calm to the patient. "Have you been told what happened last night, Rachel?"

Chloe hadn't caught the official diagnosis, asleep in the post-surgery room, but she had explained what she could in the morning. Rachel had apparently bled profusely from her nose… a whole pint's worth. The young woman shook her head, softly gulping from the fear of what they would tell her next...

"Rachel. There isn't an easy way to explain this... You suffered the rupture of an aneurysm yesterday." There was a pause, longer than there should've been. "Upon ordering an MRI of major danger areas for aneurysms, we found something... concerning."

Doctor Caulfield, still in the background, took something out of a folder he'd been holding under his arm. It looked like a series of scans of someone's head. The name beside each scan was her own. She was no expert - her only knowledge coming from medical drama shows - but… they looked wrong.

The blood instantly drained from Rachel's face, her skin going a sickly whitish gray. Her stomach churned, head spinning with denial.  _Where's Chloe?_

_Where is Chloe?_

" _Where.. Is... Chloe?"_ was the only thing that she could get past her lips. They felt so dry that uttering the words was parching in and of itself.

As if on cue, the bluenette in question wheeled herself in, very confused as to the appearance of two doctors in Rachel's room. "S'cuse me. Are you lost?" True to her punk nature, the question was pointed, direct, and not least a little intentionally rude.

Eyeing them up suspiciously, she moved herself around the blonde's bed directly opposite. A food tray was balanced in her lap - loaded with pancakes and bacon, some juice cartons and biscuits. The wheelchair-bound girl carefully picked up the tray, setting it on the bedside table. Once done, she gave the intruders a harsh glare before her eyes returned to her best friend.

"What were you about to say to my angel?" she demanded, immediately placing one of her own hands over one of Rachel's.

"Miss Price, I presume?" Heather inquired, unfazed by the interruption extending a hand of greeting. It remained ignored, much like herself. "As we were just saying, Miss Amber here suffered a ruptured aneurysm last night, and when we got the MRI back, we found something concer..."

"Don't you  _fucking_   _dare_ give her bad news." There was no room for debate in the order. No case where at least one person's wishes weren't going to be disregarded.

Rachel was frozen in place. Already, she wanted to scream. To escape. To be far,  _far_  away from this damned hospital… and she hadn't even heard the worst of it yet.

"Miss Amber, Miss Price... Upon review of the MRI, we unfortunately found a major aneurysm on one of the deeper vessels of your brain. Rachel... it is, at this time, inoperable, but it is manageable."

Tired hazel eyes shifted to blue ones filled with anger and denial. What could she even say right now? How should she feel? And what would this mean for her and Chloe? Before she had decided on an answer to even one of those questions, the bearded doctor finally spoke up.

"With the right medications, and regular monitoring, it is possible that we can keep you from experiencing a rupture." His reply verged on curt, although he couldn't hide the slight quiver.

Feeling her strength return, Rachel channeled her rage towards the man in front of her. How fucking  _dare_ he waltz in here, drop that bombshell and  _not_ expect a million and one other questions?

Of all the mysteries lingering, the bluenette asked perhaps the longest awaiting of an answer. "Where is she, Ryan? Where's Max?"

Blue eyes now blazing with cold fire met long dead and glazed over brown ones.

"She's... gone, Chloe. She's dead."

* * *

Rachel had seen her best friend mad before - scared, depressed, happy, lusting, exhausted, long beyond mentally dead and tortured - but… she'd never seen  _this_. The raw mix of fury, sadness and horror.

" _ **GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS FUCKING ROOM AND NEVER COME BACK, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF INHUMAN SHIT!**_ "

She'd never thought such a mix was possible; heaving sobs, choking on air, gasping desperately, followed by unintelligible shrieks, broken screams to the heavens who'd long stopped listening, pleas to deities that everything was just a horrid nightmare...

The girl in front of her could not be more thoroughly shattered.

That had been more than enough for Ryan, who had turned on his heel and left without another word. Heather tried to ask what was going on, met with similar insults. Eventually, she agreed to leave them to it, not before mentioning she could be reached through any of the nurses if need be.

Way past the point of listening or caring, the bluenette's body was wracked with another heave - broken rattling sounds emanating from her very core. They didn't even sound human.

The blonde was left speechless, unmoving. She so desperately wanted to console her friend, take away the pain… but that might not even be possible. Not even for her. How did  _anyone_ help their best friend - and so much more - accept such crushing news. The girl she had been banking on finding for years… dead.

How the  _fuck_  did you do that?

All the while, she was painfully aware of the lit up brain scans. Taunting her. A nodule had been circled in ominous red on almost every shot. It didn't take a genius to construct the morbid puzzle.

This bulge of a vein had a major chance of killing her. No warning.

The bed shifted beside her, drawing her attention. Chloe had climbed in, all on her own. Since the… with her injuries, she had adapted so much. Both their upper body strengths had improved since that day… about the only thing that had. No hesitation, Rachel pulled her most important person in the world closer, helping the paralyzed girl into a tight hug.

They didn't move for hours.

* * *

Eventually, Rachel called for one of the nurses to retrieve Heather. She was eternally grateful the doctor left the earlier outburst untouched. All she did was answer her patient's questions as succinctly as possible.

"So, what could have caused it?" asked the modelesque girl.

A pair of sad green eyes met hazel ones, looking down at a set of notes with a sigh. "Rachel... When you and Chloe here... were kidnapped almost six months ago, you were injected with drugs to keep you docile..."

One hollow, morbidly sickening laugh erupted from the bluenette's throat, whose face was buried in Rachel's chest. "Fucking  _figures_..."

Not paying the interruption much mind, Heather continued, "The drugs from that night have been pulled from the market because of the drastic side effects. In… your case, Rachel… the drug found its way to your brain before it could be effectively diluted into your bloodstream. It's known for weakening the walls of blood vessels it gets trapped in, causing aneurysms."

The words almost didn't register, like an out of body experience. Rachel didn't want to believe they were talking about her right now…  _her_ brain. It was so surreal. All the while, she could feel the bluenette beside her tense. Tighter and tighter...

Pausing for a moment to look at her notes, Heather pressed ahead. "However, if the drug has a chance to 'properly' dilute into the bloodstream, the danger is no longer to the blood vessels, but nerves. After merely a few hours from exposure, nerve tissue becomes ten times more friable and easy to break. It also tends to prevent regrowth of nerves in damaged areas." The doctor looked down to the bluenette, as if to make her point.

"It's been six months… they are both dead… and they just keep  _fucking_ us, don't they, Rach?" A wet, heavy wheeze emanated from the paralyzed bluenette. "You'd think they would get tired of it, right? Of emotionally raping us over and over again, even from hell."

With as much strength as she could muster, the bluenette finally lifted her head. Tired blue eyes met terrified hazel ones, turning steelier by the second.

" _Fuck_.  _That_..."

A fierce flicker of determination flared up, driving Rachel to glare at the scans. "It was  _mentioned…_ " she refrained from reminding by whom for fear of re-opening fresh wounds, "...that there are ways to manage my aneurysm. Medication, right? Possible surgery?"

Right now, she was clutching at straws. For  _both_ their sakes.

Heather nodded hesitantly, still unsure of the cause for the unpleasantness between the girls and Doctor Caulfield. He had always seemed like a good man, stern at times but only when really called for. Very few had even a single bad word to say about him. After some extremely traumatizing personal loss, he had thrown himself into his work. An unhealthy distraction.

Oblivious to the older woman's thought process, the bluenette spoke up inspired by her friend's newfound resolve. " _He_  did say that it was manageable, and that being inoperable was 'for now'..." She croaked, her throat raw still from the earlier breakdown. "But that  _doesn't_ mean it can't be taken care of down the road." Chloe shifted, going to sit up next to her best friend.

Green eyes betrayed the doctor's unspoken awe. It was rare to see a patient so eager to fight back with a vengeance. So often, all you could find was dull acceptance, defeat in the face of a death sentence.

Shaking off the shock, she cleared her throat. "Yes, there are options. Treatments to try to reinforce the walls of the aneurysm, promote cell growth... They're experimental, but they exist."

Heather gained steam as she explained the ins and outs of the healing process… until hazel eyes locked on her green ones. They were accompanied with a question, quieter than before but still just as determined.

"If… if it... breaks... how long do I have?"

A second gaze met hers - this one blue, tired and broken, but ultimately ready to attack and defend should the need arise.

"For someone who..." she was cut off suddenly, her words caught in her throat.

"Tell her the truth. Don't sugar coat a single fucking thing," the bluenette ordered sharply.

No more half truths or blatant lies. They  _deserved_ to know everything.

A single curt nod acknowledged the directness of Chloe's demand. "Realistically, maybe a minute or two before you're unconscious from the pressure on your brain. Ten to fifteen before your brain shuts down."

The silence in the room was eerily familiar. If they'd been in a TV show, there'd have been crickets.

"Oh. That's... At least it's fast," was all Rachel could manage.

To say she had a ticking time bomb counting down in her head was a veritable understatement. For all she knew, it may never go off...

Honestly, that uncertainty was more terrifying than a straight answer.

* * *

_21:06, Saturday October 12th, 2013 - The Apartment:_

For the first time since they'd moved in, Chloe wasn't the one to open the door to their home.

She hadn't even rolled herself around, totally relying on Rachel to push her out of the hospital. Hell, she'd even had to be loaded into the SUV with help.

The blonde had tried her damned hardest to open up a conversation with her blue-haired punk. All she got in return was silence… nothing left to give to the fucked up universe who had built up her hopes only to slam her in the dirt. The last strand of hope keeping her going was… well, gone. No reasoning, just…

Max Caulfield was  _dead_. Had been for a long time from the sounds of it.

Rachel scoffed bitterly.  _What kind of world does that to someone?_  She pondered the question long and hard.

There were no answers.

As a last ditch attempt to get her friend to eat something - when had the last time been? - she wheeled Chloe into the dining room. The tray of food from this morning had been flung in anger at the man who told them Max had died…

"Chlo… you need to eat. It's been…" her heart sank at the realization, "...a whole day almost."

She went to the freezer, pulling out two TV dinners. It wasn't much, but it would at least sate their hunger till the next morning. Shoving them in the microwave, she headed towards her room - backpack heavy on her shoulders.

"I'll be right back..."

Feeling slightly defeated, the blonde trudged around the corner and took a right to her room. Setting down her bag, she pulled out the new set of medication ready to make its home in the cabinet behind her mirror. Rattling the pills in the half-dozen bottles as she walked, she disappeared into the bathroom. Shoulders slumped as she unceremoniously dumped them into the sink, ready to get organizing.

As Rachel finished up and closed the mirror, something caught her eye. A cardboard box, unremarkable in most circumstances...

Except for the memories she knew it contained.

Expression softening, she slowly turned and took the handful of steps towards the box in question. Taking hold of its sides, she slid it off the shelf. Joyce had been the one to pack it. Neither girl had been ready to delve into the memories before that night, left abandoned. Too busy… or too painful.

The blonde gently set the box down on her bed, taking care not to break anything. "Here we go..." she muttered, unsure if her heart could handle any more pain right now, opening it regardless.

In the box were a variety of trinkets - a doe in a snow globe, a feather earring she'd not worn in six months, pictures of Max and Chloe, Rachel and Chloe, a Pirate hat and eye patch - but only one truly caught her eye, sitting on top of the pile.

A single piece of notepad paper, tattered and worn, folded over and over with two columns. Each started with their names, under which was a list of things to do.

Their bucket list.

One all-consuming thought began to form in Rachel's mind, taking hold and rooting itself deep. When they'd first made the bucket list, it'd been just for fun. Sure, things had been shit at the time, but they'd still had some portion of their innocence. When they'd added to it since, they'd done it as life had given them more things to do. It had, however always started with "Escape Arcadia Bay" and always ended with "One day, I'm going to climb Everest."

Maybe it was time to revise their list.

In the last six months, they had been crushed, smashed, chewed up and spit out by the universe. And yet… They were still alive. That might not be such a guarantee anymore, but despite all of their circumstances, they were alive. Even if that was all they had right now, it was still somewhere to start.

"Chlo!" she yelled, turning towards the door to go find her best friend.

She didn't even have to leave the room; the bluenette had already rolled herself to the blonde's doorway. Her chest heaved as she breathed heavily, blue eyes panicked, sheer terror on her face.

"Rach!? Are you okay?" her voice was shaky, her gaze flitting up and down the blonde's form, looking for any sign she was in danger. "What's going on?"

A sharp pang raced through Rachel's heart, seeing the terror on the face of the woman she loved more than anything. She hadn't meant to scare the bluenette, and she quickly put two and two together, realizing that Chloe had thought the worst.

"I'm fine, I promise, I'm fine," she reassured the punk, watching shoulders slump in sheer relief. "I... I had an idea..."

The blue-haired woman raised an eyebrow with a slight glare, half-tempted to throw something at her best friend for scaring the shit out of her. "Go on... I'm listening..."

Rachel lifted the list in her hand, no context or explanation. Almost like it was something sacred. Gloved hands gripped the handles of the wheels on the chair as Chloe pushed herself through the doorway towards the blonde.

"Where the  _hell_  did you find that old thing?" she asked, soft laughter in her voice - a miracle sound for Rachel to hear.

Giving a one shouldered shrug, and pointing with a thumb back at the box on the bed, the model smiled slightly.

"I was thinking that... since we actually are two broken people who don't really know how long we have to live... maybe now we have a better reason to actually have one of these. Live our lives to the most that we can... Shit like that..." she deflated, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in.

Blue eyes moved to meet hazel ones as the punk took the list. Those same eyes looked down at the paper, drinking up the various items. Her gaze hesitated on one line, then quickly read the rest of the items, before returning to the one line that meant the most to her.

**Meet the elusive Max Caulfield|See Max again**

The bluenette nodded to the idea of a new list. "I... You're right. We... We can't live with the expectation of death and actually be living... I accept that challenge."

Chloe's gaze shot back up to meet Rachel's, solid and unwavering.

"But before we do, I want to..." Her voice faltered momentarily, allowing her to take a deep breath. "I need to know how she died."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> There aren't words for me to use right now... What I have is above...
> 
> -TjwCroft
> 
> *This just keeps getting more and more fun, huh?*
> 
> -Nothing_You_Can_Prove


	4. Get Answers|Get the facts

~~**Get Answers|Get the facts** ~~

_10:58, Monday 14th, October 2013 - Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital, Neurology Wing:_

Something about the two best friends sneaking into the neurology department undetected had the girls giddy. They felt like ninjas. This wasn't the first time they had entered somewhere they shouldn't, just like old times.

And they were going to need to lean on that happiness.  _Big time._

Rachel followed her bluenette as they crept down the office hallway. As they passed, they skimmed the names on the doors. Finally, the wheelchair squeaked to a halt in front of an unassuming office front almost identical to the rest.

A section of wall rested between two concrete columns, divided into three parts. The center and right divisions were frosted glass, light filtering through. It illuminated a shadowy figure hunched over the desk. The left division was a tall, lightly stained wooden door with a small glass square centered in the upper half and a nameplate beneath it.

_Dr. Ryan Caulfield MD._

_Head of Neurology and Neurosurgery_

The blonde gave her friend's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, earning a determined nod in return.

So, she knocked.

"Come in!" came the hasty, yet indifferent reply.

Opening the door and stepping aside, she let the punk roll in first. Before they'd even completely crossed the threshold, they were met with distinct shock.

"Ch... Chloe?! What are you..."

The bluenette shut him down before he could finish his sentence with a single hand in the air. "I... I haven't forgiven you... I just... I need answers... I need to know what happened to Max," she replied, waiting for the blonde to take a seat beside the space her wheelchair occupied.

The model took a moment to examine the office space. On their side of the desk sat two chairs facing the desk, one she took and the other just opposite Chloe. Beige tiles covered the floor, same as in the hallway. Bookshelves were pushed against the wall near the door, filled to overcapacity. Either side of the window on the adjacent wall were Ryan's degrees, certifications, and letters he'd received from grateful patients or parents.

His desk was cluttered with papers and trinkets - stress balls with heavy signs of use, a lamp, his laptop, a tablet with a stylus and a few picture frames. One showed him and a familiar short brunette at the Space Needle, taken a few years back now.

Out of everything she could see, what struck the blonde most was on the wall to her right. From maybe two feet from the floor to roughly the same distance from the ceiling was a veritable collage of polaroids.

_Hundreds_.

All organized into neat and orderly columns and rows across the entire width of the room. Ranging in subject - from landscape to family photos to nature shots of deers and squirrels. The closer to the center, the more pictures became selfies… focused on Max, her family and a particular long-haired blonde girl with features all too familiar. More carefree than Rachel had ever witnessed.

Chloe.

Sitting, framed above the center of the picture collage - like a morbid reminder - was a framed newspaper article, one that made Rachel's heart drop into her stomach. As if on cue, Ryan stood up and walked to the wall, plucking the framed item off of the wall and taking it with him as he went to sit down.

The bearded man himself looked rough, as though he'd seen much better days. And perhaps that had to do with having seen Chloe again after all these years,  _knowing_  that things had gone so horribly wrong.

"I... I don't think I can start on my own, so I'm going to hand you this..." he mumbled, shakily passing the frame across the desk.

He handed it to the bluenette, who took the item cautiously as if it would harm her with the slightest provocation. How apt that thought seemed. The punk turned the frame around, reasonably confused as to what a news article could possibly hold, and she looked at the title.

_**Teenage daughter of Grey-Sloan Neurosurgeon killed in tragic car accident** _

Chloe's throat visibly tightened, and her grip on the frame became stronger as she prepared to read through the article itself. However, before she could even do so, her eyes searched for a date, something to use to stay mad at the bearded man in front of her.

What she found destroyed the last hope she'd had of hating him.

_**April 26, 2013** _

"No… no, no, no… please…"

A single sob erupted from her chest before she handed the article to her blonde friend. The shorter girl read over the two items, instantly understanding the implications. April… the month their worlds had gone to shit… not only that but the article had been published two days after the day the world had broken. The hollow feeling in Chloe's heart grew tenfold.

The sullen voice from across the desk filtered through the shock. "She… died due to complications from the crash. Only been driving around six months. Didn't know how to handle the roads as well as she should've. Emotional, too."

His voice faltered, threatening to cut out. It took a long moment to compose himself, eyes shifting from watery to distant in a heartbeat. Both girls knew that look; he was reliving the memory.

"We didn't even know she'd left until… we found a very different newspaper on the kitchen table. The headline of that newspaper was about two young women had been rescued from a kidnapping compound in Arcadia Bay." He looked at the bluenette properly for the first time, defeated and apologetic. "One of them being you, Chloe..."

Everything started to make sense, why Chloe hadn't been told sooner. So many times, the punk had fondly reminisced about her first mate and best friend. The one person in this world she loved as much as Rachel.

The bluenette had even admitted - while incredibly intoxicated - that the first day she and Rachel hung out, had their first major fight at the junkyard, she had gone on a smash rampage. One item had been a camera. She had been able to tell the stand-ins for Rachel and David to go fuck themselves.

But the camera so deeply associated with Max…

The furious girl had been unable to even fathom the idea of telling her lifelong friend to go fuck herself, telling the camera to do so instead.

"She… cared about you, Chloe. So,  _so_ much. I want you to know that. She never gave up hope of seeing you again… one day. And, as best we know, that's why she… was headed to Arcadia that night.

Ryan - for all intents and purposes a man who should be broken even more so than Chloe was - forced himself to get out of his chair and walk around the desk. He came to kneel in front of the wheelchair, taking a steadying breath before his brown eyes looked up into pale blue ones. They no longer held the same steely quality as before, ignoring the truth. Now, they just looked sad.

"I... I understand if you hate me. I hate myself for not having read the article before she did. I hate myself every day for not forcing her to get in touch sooner. I hate myself so much for all of the chances we missed to go back to visit Arcadia Bay... But most of all, Chloe... I hate myself for having had to hide this from you..."

Her gaze remained locked with his, tears streaming down both their faces.

"When it... happened... I was so lost, but so determined to find a way to tell you. And then I had the phone in my hand, and I was going to call your mother… Then Vanessa put her hand on the phone and reminded me you were in hospital with a spinal injury that might never heal. Paralyzed from the waist down. People can only take so much loss at once. I… agreed."

Chloe - whose face was streaked with predictable tears - moved closer to the broken man. Cautiously, she opened her arms, suddenly pulling him closer. Her resolve, bitterness, and anger all faded away with the realization that, in some small part, she had to accept the reason for Max's… she hadn't asked to be kidnapped or tortured, inspiring the brunette to come see her.

Once more, the blame fell squarely onto Jefferson and Nathan's shoulders...

* * *

_19:12, Monday 14th, October 2013 - The Apartment:_

Neither Rachel nor Chloe had spoken since getting back home. There was nothing to say. Not a single word worth uttering. Tears, yes. Plenty of those. Just when it seemed like they had no more to give. This was the cherry on the shit cake six months in the making.

Was there anything left for the universe to take from them? The answer: yes, but not much more. And the way things were going… they were set on the course to lose  _everything_. Even each other.

That realization hit the bluenette harder than she had anticipated. The thought of losing Rachel after all this, of not being able to hear her laugh or watch the twinkle of mischief light up in her eyes when she was plotting... That didn't sit very well with her. Frankly, it made her sick. But there were other things that still stung even more freshly.

Morbidly, Chloe took hold of the bucket list that had been left on the kitchen table. She stared at their mutual, if differently worded, wish for so long… lost in the false hope.

**Meet the elusive Max Caulfield|See Max again**

Previously, it had seemed unlikely. Now… impossible.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a pen. Similar to the ones she used to make her mark on the world in graffiti form. Lunging for it, she ripped the lid off and went to slam the nib into the paper. This list was a mistake.

Fucking stupid childish idea.

A curse.

Before the bluenette could aggressively scribble it out, Rachel grabbed her arm. "Wait… don't cross it off yet."

Chloe lifted her head, eyes conveying nothing but rage and overwhelming despair. That was enough to make the shorter girl's heart crumble. "Why? It's pointless. I'm  _never_ going to see her again. She's  _fucking dead_ Rachel!" The words hung in the still air, echoing. Much quieter and weaker this time, Chloe repeated her sentence. "She's… fucking dead… Rach."

All her hopes and dreams came crashing down around her once more at the cruel reminder. She had refrained from speaking it aloud for fear of having to accept it. Break her ideal reality into a million pieces. Max was  _supposed_ to be here. Just like the bluenette's father… she had left this world without saying goodbye.

Well, that might not be entirely true. Her eyes settled on the letter Ryan Caulfield had given them. Her name was emblazoned on the front in painfully familiar handwriting, with subtle differences. For a time, she had examined the three words on the front.

_~To Chloe Price~_

Under normal circumstances, they would be unimportant. A simple signal that the envelope's contents was for her eyes alone. Now, they made up one small fragment of the Max Caulfield she never knew.

Apparently, Ryan and Vanessa had come across it about a month ago when they had finally braved going into Max's room. It had been tucked between the pages of her journal, sealed. An unsent letter to her estranged best friend. Much like the letters Chloe had once written seemingly in vain.

If she had just… sent them. Even  _one_...

Sighing, Rachel carefully lifted her punk's head. "There  _is_ a way."

Chloe's eyes registered confusion, then realization… "I… don't think I can."

"You are Chloe  _fucking_ Price. The badass. The girl who has constantly beaten the odds, brave and fearless. The girl I…" she faltered, almost scared to make her feelings known aloud for fear of pain and rejection, "...the girl I love with all my heart. I know you better than anyone at this point. You  _can_ do this."

Blue eyes were shocked momentarily at the confession, then registered overwhelming fear at the unspoken suggestion. "I… I can't do this. I'm not ready. I… I  _can't_. Please, Rach… don't make me do this..."

"Will you ever be ready? If you don't do this now, you never will. And that's something you will regret for the…" the blonde paused, morbidly redacting the phrase 'rest of your life' given the potential shortness of it, "...you'll regret never doing it. I don't want you to give up on a chance of gaining some small amount of closure."

In the long moment of hesitation, Rachel carefully took hold of her punk friend's face and planted tender kisses. One for courage on the forehead. Two to take the pain away, absorbing salty tears. Three just… because she wanted to on the lips. The first took the bluenette by surprise. The second dried her tears somewhat. The third had her returning the affection.

When they finally broke apart, the blonde lightly bumped their foreheads together. This felt so wrong - like she was taking advantage - yet  _so_ right. "Just… think about it. That's all I ask."

Swallowing hard, Chloe did just that. Her reply came much sooner than anticipated. A singular subtle nod. Her response soft and quivering.

"Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:  
> *Hey, just wanted to stop by and say thank you to everyone who's been reading and leaving feedback, to everyone who's following along as Rachel and Chloe stumble their way through the hell that life is throwing at them. I can only hope you'll stay with them through whatever may come. Cheers.*
> 
> -TjwCroft
> 
> *^ What he said. And it's gonna be one hell of a ride...*
> 
> -NYCP


	5. Meet the elusive Max Caulfield|See Max again

~~**Meet the elusive Max Caulfield|See Max again** ~~

_09:37, Tuesday 15th, October 2013 - Forest Lawn Cemetery, Seattle:_

Chloe was quick to realize that wheelchairs weren't meant to be used on grass. Or hills. Or damp dirt. At least hers wasn't.

But that didn't stop her from pushing through regardless.

Occasionally, she had to rely on the blonde by her side to get her unstuck, but after a few false starts and a wrong turn, they finally made it to the row they'd been looking for.

Rachel had handled calling Ryan to ask about how to find their destination. Chloe would've done it herself had it not been for the fear of losing the spark of determination, the only thing keeping her going. Hearing Ryan explain the directions… the partially controlled wavering as he tried to stay strong for her sake... that would be too much.

The bluenette could still remember a time when the man had smiled, carefree. Around Max, he lit up. It was clear to anyone - friend or stranger - just how much he loved his daughter. More so now than ever. The same could no doubt be said for Vanessa. Had either of them even smiled once since that day? She didn't think so.

"Just a few more plots..." The blonde took a moment to glance at her - What were they now that she'd made the first step? - friend. "Are you... Are you ready?" she asked, knowing that the truth would always be no. How could someone ever be ready for what they were about to do?

The bluenette shrugged, keeping herself on track to keep rolling forward. For now, she clamped down on the pain in favor of numbness. Her usual defence mechanism; unadulterated anger; wouldn't save her now. Any display of emotion would almost instantly give way to the floodgates. After a few more pushes, she felt a hand on her shoulder, indicating she needed to stop, prompting her to look to her left at the plot they'd reached.

Both girl's hearts wrenched together.

The stone stood at the head of a beautifully groomed patch of flowers, occupying the rectangle of dirt that'd filled over the coffin below. It was an elegant matte black stone tablet, standing maybe as tall as Chloe sat in her chair. The outer edges of the stone were carved with the forms of flowers, forming a permanent wreath of sorts.

Engraved in the center of the tablet was an inscription and the name of the person laid to rest in front of them.

_Max Caulfield_

_Beloved Daughter_

_Inspiring Photographer_

_Gone too soon, and_

_forever in our hearts._

_September 21, 1995 - April 25, 2013_

Chloe choked, unsure how to even process the feelings coursing through her in that moment. The feeling of loss, on such a personally monumental scale, left her bewildered and stunned. It left her raw and hurt. She could so barely remember true happiness, and there were very few people who had inspired it in her.

Two of them were in the ground, one right in front of her.

One of them - maybe the last - stood beside her.

While Rachel did not feel that same attachment to Max as Chloe - after all, she barely knew the girl - she could feel it through her blue-haired punk as if it were her own. The weight of years of unspoken words crushed them both for very different reasons; on the one hand regret, the other failure to provide anywhere  _near_ the needed level of comfort. No human could.

The blonde reached into her purse, pulling out the letter that had been given to Chloe by the Caulfields. She looked it over, taking in the handwriting used to write the three words on the front. It wasn't much to go off of, but she could only imagine that this might help her understand who Max had been.

It was one thing to hear the bluenette's recounting of their childhood tales - long stories of pirate adventures, treehouses and wine tastings - but it was another thing entirely to try to imagine a person you'd never met. A person who inspired so much love in the person you loved, and who'd given them so many reasons to choose life. How could the version of Max Caulfield that lived in Rachel Amber's head live up to the one that rested forever in the ground in front of them?

The truth was, she couldn't.

The blonde reached out, handing the letter to Chloe, and took a step back to give her some privacy with her oldest friend. This would be possibly the last real moment they could share, despite the circumstances. These would be Max's last words to the bluenette, the last thoughts she'd ever be able to directly send to the girl who now held the piece of paper they were written on.

As the girl in the wheelchair went to open the envelope, she noticed the steadily growing shake in her hand. Not just that, her entire arm. Fingers hovered over the sealed section, so close to yet so far from answers. All she had to do was slide them underneath, one simple motion. Given what she had already suffered, opening a fucking letter should be easy.

It wasn't.

Taking a shuddery breath, she tore the envelope open without thought. If she started to consider it all again, realize what reading this letter meant, she would never be able to do it. Some of the weight lifted from her shoulders as she did, replaced with crushing fear and denial as blue eyes scanned the words laid out before her. Ones she had been waiting five long years to read.

* * *

_Chloe,_

_It's been five years since I last saw you, the longest and loneliest five years of my life._ ~~_Wowser… That's not at all a desperate way to start a letter._  ~~ _Now to sound even more lame, I guess._

_I miss you. Every. Single. Day. It might not look like it from the way I treated you but…_

_Honestly, I just wish I could send this to you, even if it makes you hate me more. But, as you already know, I'm a total coward when it comes to confrontation. God only knows how many times you saved me from dealing with shit. We've never really fallen out before, not really. So, I didn't even know how to handle the thought of you despising my guts._

_And it's not like I can blame you. I left when you needed me most, practically ignored your existence. If only I could go back to that day, somehow convince my parents to let me stay. Or even ask them to drive me to Arcadia to come see you at least once…_

_I miss being your first mate in our pirate adventures. I guess I've probably been stripped of that title for a long time now, huh?_

_Not to sound like a total creep, but… I decided to facebook stalk you last night… (weird, I know). And you know what I saw first? Your blue hair. I know you always wanted to do it. And damn, it looks so freaking cool! And you cut it, too. Pris doesn't hold a single flame to you!_

_Not only that, but you got a tattoo! A super badass one at that! So cool with the roses, skull and thorned vines. Seems like it'd fit this new version of you. I wish I could say I looked as awesome. Pretty much the same, just more tired. I probably still look about thirteen. I also noticed how tall you'd gotten. You liked to tease me before where there was like an inch or so between us. Wonder how much worse it would be if we met now? I wish I could find out._

_I miss your friendly teasing. The mischievous glint in your eyes as you pranked me. The impish grin in the aftermath._

_And, I see you made a new friend. One I'm really happy to know stayed in your life… unlike me. You and Rachel Amber share a lot of posts. She seems like she's really important to you. Like you truly love her. I can see it in the way you smile in the pictures. Hold onto that. I hope I get to meet her someday. There's a lot I need to tell her, thanks her for._

_But first, I have to hug you again like a million and two times. Five years worth. It's not just hugs I have to catch up on..._

_Facebook stalking aside, what I'm trying to say is: Chloe, I miss you so much. I wish I was back in Arcadia right now telling you all this instead of writing another letter I'm never going to send. Not good for the environment to waste paper… bad Max. See? Still a total nerd._

_Maybe I'll be able to hand this to you in person, and everything will be okay… one day._

_I love you, Chloe Elizabeth Price._

_Max_

* * *

Just as she came to the end, she watched a tear drop to the piece of paper in her hands. So engrossed in Max's words, she had failed to notice she was on the verge of crying. She could imagine her childhood friend's voice, letting the memories wash over her. Judging by this one letter, the brunette hadn't changed much at all… aside from being filled with regret.

She went to go put the letter back into its envelope, and found a second note. This one smaller, folded up into a square on pink card. She pulled it out, and turned it over a few times, only to find in a now refamiliarized handwriting three words.

_~To Rachel Amber~_

"Rach, you... You have a note too..." came a croak from the bluenette. Holding the folded paper by the tips of her fingers, she reached out and handed it to the blonde, who began to move forward.

"What? What do you mean?" Rachel asked, caught off guard.

She took the note and stared at the words on the outside for a moment, before slowly working to unfold the origami-like piece of paper that contained a message to her from someone she'd never met. After successfully opening the note without damaging it, the model looked down at the words, her mind still playing catch-up.

* * *

_Rachel,_

_So… I'm not actually sure how to even write this. I've never spoken to you, heard next to nothing about you, and so long I remain a coward in not sending this letter… you'll probably never hear from me. Good start, right?_

_Awkwardness aside, I guess we'll start with introductions._

_Hi. I'm Max._ ~~_Max Caulfield. Wait, you probably already know that cause of Chloe..._  ~~ _I used to be Chloe's best friend._ ~~_You probably knew that too..._  ~~ _I'm pretty sure I've lost the right to that title. For all intents and purposes, I abandoned her, right when she needed me. I seriously dread to think about all the horror stories you've heard about my assholery._

_Shit... What part wouldn't you know?... You probably hate me by proxy of Chlo... She's right to hate me... But this isn't supposed to be a pity party. No. This is supposed to be me being all supportive and... stuff..._

_From what I can tell (Facebook stalking... Sorry...), you're a really awesome person, and you're super nice to Chloe, and you guys are really good friends._ ~~_(Plus you're super pretty and whatnot)_  ~~ _It looks like you guys are probably even closer than she and I were when I lived in Arcadia... That's... That's good. She needs someone like you to keep her up, to keep her from crashing. I... I know things were probably really bad for her when you guys met. (And I can claim responsibility for a good… like 50% of that at least.)_

_I don't want to tell you what to do, I have literally no right to, but… please just do one thing for me. Take care of my Chloe. I can tell she loves you, wants to be around you. So, please don't break her like I did. There isn't much left to shatter at this point, so protect it._

_Because… she's priceless (pun very much intended)._

_Sincerely,_

_Max Caulfield_

* * *

Rachel didn't know what to say. She honestly found herself shaking, rereading the note over and over. How was she supposed to react when a dead person asked you to take care of their - now your - best friend? She felt an immense sense of awe and respect for the now passed brunette. That Max had decided to write her a letter of all people, left her completely floored. Nothing could have been less expected. And most certainly nothing could have prepared her for the praise from the one person who meant more than the world itself to the bluenette.

Something moved in the corner of Rachel's eye, catching her attention. She noticed a doe, almost hazy, in the treeline not far away from where they were. She didn't know why, but it felt…  _special_. That was when she noticed a large black and electric blue butterfly, landing on one of the flowers that made the patch of Max's grave.

Out of the corner of her eye she also noticed Chloe moving closer to the headstone, preparing herself as best as she could. The bluenette put a hand on top of the engraved tablet. She'd removed her glove, the cool stone feeling smooth against her now calloused hands.

"Hey, Max... It's been a while..." she started, unsure of where this would take her. "It's been... Shit... five fucking years... Hasn't it? Let's see... I missed you... Still do..." she paused, knowing the tears were already flowing freely down her face, not giving a damn. "I... I still can't believe you're gone, Max. When your dad... When he told me what happened... You... You were coming for me... You... were the brave one coming to save me... Dammit... I was always supposed to be protecting you..."

A heavy sob broke from her throat, but she forced herself to continue, unwilling to give up on all the strength she'd gathered. She had come this far. If she stopped now… Swallowing her emotions, she took a deep breath in and out.

"I could never be mad at you, Max... I love you too much... It hurts so much to know you're gone. To know I'm never gonna hear your voice calling to me again... I missed so many chances to get back in touch with you... So many chances to just say hello." Another sob came forward, the only thing keeping Chloe in her chair was the hand she kept on the stone. "I... I don't want to say it... But I won't ever really have a chance like this one... So... I guess... Here goes..."

The bluenette wiped her sleeve across her face to clear away some of her tears. Out of everything she had faced and suffered, this was  _by far_ the hardest. That might seem strange to some, most even.

"G…" The first word failed her instantly. "Goodbye, Max. Thank you for all of the adventures and the lifetime of memories. I will always call you my first mate, and I'll always remember you..." she choked, but continued. "I will always love you, and I'll always wish there'd been another way... Goodbye, Max. Goodbye..."

Finally, she caved, her steadying hand slipping from the headstone as she fell out of her chair, sobbing. Her heart had been torn to shreds so many times over by the universe.

And yet, she felt a weight lift.

It was subtle, but it was there. There was a slight shift, as if someone had accepted her words, and was pouring all of their love into her. It felt like nothing she'd ever experienced.

From a few steps behind, Rachel watched on, her own heart breaking as she witnessed the center of her own world collapse to the ground. Even amongst the heartbreaking scene something else caught her eye. The doe and the butterfly both shifted. Just slightly, but it caught her eye nonetheless.

Something about their movement urged the blonde to take a few steps towards where the bluenette lay sobbing. Closing in on her friend, she placed one hand in the punk's letting her know she was there. Her other hand found the stone, and she decided to say something of her own.

"Hello, Max... I... I don't know how to start either, believe it or not." She felt a squeeze in the hand she'd given to her friend, indicating that she should continue. "I... can't tell you how much I wish I'd had the chance to really get to know you. To spend time with you..." A tear ran down her own cheek. "Chloe has told me so much about you, about how much you exemplify love and kindness in her world, and... And that makes me feel so honored that you would ask me to watch over her, to take care of her... I wish so badly that we could've met before... I think we would've gotten along really well..." she stopped.

Where once she'd exuded nothing but confidence, now she was nerves. Where once she'd felt self-assured in being able to shift from one social environment to the next, now she felt like she could barely manage a single conversation with anyone but Chloe.

She almost had to laugh.

"I guess... This is both hello, and goodbye... Goodbye Max. I'm sorry I never was lucky enough to meet you," she concluded, sighing deeply.

Despite the heavy sadness in her statement, she too felt something shift. As if her entire world felt lighter.

Her hand was squeezed gently by the punk beside her, prompting her to look up.

She was glad she did.

The blue butterfly flapped its wings a few times, as if it was waving at them, before taking off. It fluttered majestically away, into the world beyond their own.

Only faint motion further away drew her eyes from the butterfly, and onto the doe.

She would swear for years to come that it faded out of existence before her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> *Well damn... That was hard to write... I've never ever been good at goodbyes... I hate them. But sometimes... Sometimes you don't have a choice... Sometimes you have to accept that you're going to have to give one. I hope you feel it did Max justice.*
> 
> -TjwCroft
> 
> *Phew, more angst and sadness. Bout time we had something cheery, right? Well… you may be waiting a while...*
> 
> -NYCP


	6. Beat this fucking aneurysm|Walk again

**Beat this** _ **fucking**_   **aneurysm|Walk again**

_13:55, Friday 18th, October 2013 - Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital:_

Once more, the two girls found themselves at the hospital. This place held immeasurable significance for them - from the initial days after Arcadia General realized they were vastly ill-equipped to deal with Chloe's case, to the first few painfully disastrous physical therapy sessions. That wasn't even to mention Rachel's recent stay… or discovering that Max was in fact dead.

For all the awful moments they had shared here, some good ones seeped through the shit. One being Chloe's first steps, awe-inspiring.

The second… that was happening right now as they spoke.

"Just... be careful, Chlo..." the blonde cautioned, watching on tenterhooks as Chloe moved her legs back and forth trying to remember what it felt like to swing them.

"I know. I knooooooow," the bluenette replied, annoyed but understanding.

If she tried to put weight on her feet, she'd crumple again. Nobody needed to remind her. Still, she couldn't let  _that_ stop her. All she could do right now was keep trying until her damn legs stopped mirroring her own rebellious behavior.

There were no illusions of her situation; her legs would never work the same way again. The nerves were disconnected from her brain, making muscle actuation impossible. Not that the odds fazed her much. She  _would_ find a way around it.

Nothing could beat Chloe Price.  _Nothing_.

She would have to start small, crutches more specifically. That way, she could regain more autonomy in her movement. Having to rely on other people… on Rachel… she couldn't do it anymore. The wheelchair helped, but damn it was inconvenient sometimes. Bulky and restrictive. While it had served her well these past few months, she was  _sooo_ done with it.

Tired yet hopeful hazel eyes watched gloved hands slid along the support frame's steel pipe. A leg shifted forward shakily, barefoot resting flat on the floor. A smile tugged at Rachel's lips as she watched the entire body of the woman she loved slowly inch forward.

A single tear ran down her cheek. Not of pain or sorrow but joy. The indescribable surge of elation at witnessing her whole world walk again, even if it was just the motions.

Blue eyes transitioned from triumphant to confused as they fell on a familiar face. As her foot touched the floor, the once stoic attempt at professionalism faltered, giving way to a soft smile. The first in… a long time. It would take a  _long_ time for the blue-haired pun to forget what he did but… she also understood his reasons. That was enough to at least be civil with him.

"Hey, Ryan!" she called out, lifting her hand to wave without even thinking.

Suddenly, she felt a soft one clasp her arm protectively stopping her from face planting. A little disoriented, she glanced over to see a glint of playful mischief in captivating hazel eyes.

"Next time, I let you fall," the blonde joked, sticking out her tongue.

She would  _never_ let Chloe Price fall… not intentionally. They both knew that. Still, it couldn't hurt to keep the blue-haired punk on her toes.

"Uh-huh, sure you will," Chloe responded, rolling her eyes as she carefully shuffled into her chair. Settling herself, she wheeled over to the doctor, her blonde companion in tow as usual.

"Chloe, Rachel." He nodded to both of them, meeting their gaze. "How have things been going here today?" The question, he hoped, would have a good answer.

Both girls passed a knowing glance, a faint grin on their lips. Despite being repeatedly trodden into the dirt by the universe, things were starting to seem… hopeful.

"Surprisingly good, actually. Making more progress with this whole walking thing… ish," the bluenette replied, a little hesitant. She didn't want to tempt fate… again.

Since she had read Max's letter on Monday, finally said her goodbyes after all these years… everything felt lighter. As though the world might give her a break. She'd noticed a similar shift in Rachel - more smiles and light-hearted behavior.

Inspired by the raise in morale, the punk had started regaining her - sometimes morbid - sense of humor. "Not sure I'll be running any marathons, well… ever… but walking to the bathroom would be nice."

Her mind momentarily wandered to simpler times. When she took standing up for granted, was too fucking lazy to walk to the store like ten minutes away. If… no  _when_ she could walk again, she would never complain. At least, about that.

"Well..." Ryan hesitated, running a hand through his beard before continuing. "I have... news..." He let out something akin to an exasperated sigh. "Look, I don't want to get your hopes up for nothing but… there  _might_ be something we can try."

Two sets of eyes met his, almost dumbfounded. While hesitant, he seemed mildly optimistic for a change. Rachel remained hopeful; the field of medicine  _had_  progressed leaps and bounds in the past decade. Chloe, on the other hand, was immediately skeptical. With everything she had suffered, all the empty promises and lies, she couldn't let herself get too blinded by possibilities that may blow up in her face.

Taking the sets of gazes in stride, the bearded man continued, "The medicine Rachel is on to reverse the artery cell wall damage… it was engineered as a direct response to… another drug's detrimental side effects."

He chose his words carefully, dancing around the topic for fear of exhuming the pain. The 'Dark Room' incident had been an instant hit with the papers, transcending beyond Arcadia and even Oregon. The thought of it was… horrifying. To think, the blonde girl full of carefree mischief - one he considered a second daughter - had been subjected to such barbaric torture…

It made his skin  _crawl_.

"We… Dr. Carter and myself... think that it is  _possible_  for that medicine to act similarly on your nerves." He left that morsel hanging, waiting on their reactions.

The blonde dug into the information instantly, recognizing the implied potential. If the medicine did what they hoped it would... "Chlo... You... you could really walk ag..!"

Instantly she was cut off by the extremely suspicious and cautious bluenette. "Ryan... be completely honest with me... What are the chances that this works? And... if it doesn't work... what's your backup plan, since you're telling me I might walk one day?"

These reactions were about what he had expected. He'd figured the blonde would be ecstatic, hopeful. And he'd known  _for a fact_ that Chloe wouldn't take his statement at face value.

For that reason, he'd brought a backup option for her.

Accepting the paper, Chloe looked down and a mischievous grin crossed her face.

"Your backup plan is to turn me into a fucking  _terminator_... I think I can live with that, if the whole actually walking thing doesn't work out," she chuckled, handing the sketch to the blonde beside her. "Does it come in shiny chrome?"

Curious, Rachel examined the drawing then rolled her eye with an intentionally exaggerated sigh. Looking back up at Ryan, she jokingly scolded him. "You know, you might as well skip the drugs... She'd prefer this any day..."

The sketch depicted a humanoid figure. A framework surrounded the waist continuing down the legs attaching to the knees and feet. It would fit over clothing, locking her legs into a straight position while allowing her feet to swing. There was an adjustable lock, meaning she could sit. The document was heavily annotated with elaborate details of the mechanisms, functions and limitations of the contraption.

It presented them with a feasible option… and maybe that was just what they needed right now.

* * *

_21:12, Friday 18th, October 2013 - The Apartment:_

" _Magnify!" demanded the captain of the intrepid vessel._

" _There are unusually high levels of Omicron particles within this nebula, Captain," came the monotonous reply from her Vulcan science officer._

" _Are you thinking we could collect these Omicron Particles, to..."_

Now back from their surprisingly exciting trip to the hospital, Chloe and Rachel were cuddled up on the couch. The lights were dimmed, TV playing a nineties sci-fi show. Chloe picked it, deciding to enlighten the blonde on one of her guilty pleasures. A grin crossed her face, knowing the next line off by heart.

_As the captain walked back to her chair, excitement notable in her voice, she began to give orders. "Commander. Set a new course..." She sat down, a confident grin on her lips._

" _There's_ _ **coffee**_   _in that nebula!"_

Hearing the punk in her lap quote the line with insane accuracy set the blonde into a fit of giggles. Enough to warrant setting her beer on the coffee table so as not to spill it.

"Oh my god… Chlo…" she gasped for air between giggles, a magical sound. "You… you are  _such_ a nerd!"

The laughter kept coming. Frankly, Chloe didn't want to cut it short, enduring the ribbing way longer than she would've months ago.

"Oh, and you aren't totally engrossed in all this?" the bluenette eventually countered, motioning to the screen.

Rachel had been transfixed by the tiny flying ship, cheering for the crew and their antics.

"Yeah, well... You started it..." The blonde, deciding to be playful, stuck her tongue out at the girl in her lap, earning a fit of laughter. "But seriously, this is actually a pretty cool show..."

Hearing that her - What were they? Friends? Lovers? - was enjoying herself made the bluenette smile. Realizing that there might be a light at the end of the tunnel had altered their perspective. They could look beyond day to day life, consider their future.

As she opened her mouth to speak, she found a finger pressed to her lips. A set of hazel orbs stared her down, filled with something… she'd seen before but very  _very_ different.

"Chloe... I... I'm probably gonna screw this up, because I don't know how to say it, and I'm really nervous about actually bringing this up... but..." the blonde took a long, deep breath, attempting to steady herself "I... I look at you, and... I can't imagine being anywhere else... I can't imagine living my life with anyone else..."

The sudden seriousness worried Chloe. "Shit, Rach. I sure hope not. I'm a little stuck without you."

"Damn it, Chloe. I…" she stopped herself, increasingly uncertain of what she'd wanted to say. Under different circumstances, this would have been  _so_ much easier to say.

Noticing the hesitation, the punk shifted herself to face the aspiring model she had grown close to over the last several years. Her face still bore marks from that fucking awful night, a constant reminder. Steadying herself with a hand on the back of the couch, the other finding its way to the back of Rachel's neck, she pulled her in.

Their lips met in a tender but deep kiss, one that felt like it lasted minutes. The blonde's hands cupped her punk's cheeks as they continued, tears of happiness streaming down her face. She couldn't express just how ecstatic and  _terrified_ she was now. When they finally broke for air, now confident hazel eyes met awaiting blue ones.

Unable to hold it back anymore, Rachel poured out her heart and soul. "Chloe, I love you. And I am  _in_ love with you. You are my best friend, the only person I want to call close to me, and the only one who I could truly trust my life to. I... I want you to know that I love you as so much more than my best friend. You're the person I want to... to grow old with." Would they even get that chance? Honestly, she didn't care right now. "You're the person I want to see the world with. You're the person I want to live my life with. You're the one I want to experience everything with..."

Her eyes searched Chloe's, desperate to uncover her thoughts. All she could do was pray she hadn't just thrown away years of friendship.

"Rachel… Rach…  _Have you been fucking blind the last four years?!_ " That wasn't how she wanted it to come out, but she wasn't done yet. "I've been in love with you since we first took that train to a park, the first day I met you. The  _real_ you. I've been falling in love with you over and over ever since. I've been waiting for years for the moment you felt it too..."

Snapshots of their time together raced through her head. The whirlwind adventure. Promises to run away together. Years of shared memories, both painful and happy. And then… Her words were shaky, knowing what had to be said next was difficult.

"I... I knew you felt it... That... that night... In... that place..." The punk's eyes watered, only to have her tears instantly wiped away by her angel. "When... when you begged... when you... When you begged to take my place... That's when I knew... You know what my first thought was?" She let out a choked laugh.

Rachel's heart melted, tears threatening to fall down her own face. Those too were wiped away, by the bluenette this time. They stayed like that for a moment, no words exchanged.

"My first thought was 'Damn it you have shit timing!'. Then I realized what you were doing and I tried, through the little bit of strength I had left, not to let you do it. I sure as shit didn't expect the respon-"

She never finished the sentence, soft lips crashing once more into hers. Warm hands cupped wet cheeks and gloved hands gripped clothing, pulling the two girls closer as their lips refused to part from the other's.

Finally, they broke apart, breathing heavily. Blue and hazel eyes locked onto each other adoringly.

"I love you, Chloe Price," the blonde spoke up first, raw emotion in her wavering voice.

Almost instantly, the wheelchair-bound punk responded in kind - heartfelt, sincere and equally breathy. "And I love you, Rachel Amber."

* * *

_00:02, Saturday 19th, October 2013 - The Apartment:_

The bluenette glanced over at her girlfriend - that was going to take some getting used to saying - wrapped in her arms with pure adoration. The blonde's eyes were fixed on the screen, entranced by the sci-fi spectacle. Looking at the clock, her eyes widened as she realized they'd moved into very early morning.

_Shit. It's been a while since we've done this... Feels kinda nice..._  She took another swig of the beer in her hand.  _Definitely tastes better than that first drink... Eugh..._

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the crumpled notebook page stuck to the fridge. Perhaps the most important piece of paper that had ever existed to these two girls.

Their bucket list.

"Rach, I…" she started, catching the blonde's attention.

The shorter girl paused the show, turning to meet her gaze. "What's up? Everything okay?"

That flash of concern was all Chloe needed to strengthen her resolve. They had lived in fear too long. "Can you grab that list off the fridge? And your laptop?"

Rachel shuffled off the couch, taking a moment to stretch - almost cat-like. Then, she turned towards the kitchen and headed to the fridge only to realize there were two lists: bucket and grocery.

"Uh, Chloe… dumb question." A soft giggle left the aspiring model's lips as she stepped aside to give her girlfriend a clear view. "Which list do you mean?"

The question confused her. "What do you mean whi-" Then, she noticed the second list detailing items like milk, cereal, egg, and bacon. "Oh… ha, I kinda forgot that one was there. I meant the bucket list," she finished sheepishly, running fingers through blue hair as her cheeks turned pink.

Chuckling, Rachel took the right list off the door and grabbed her backpack off the table. Before she headed back to the living room, she retrieved another set of beers. The extra bottles earned a grin and raised eyebrow from her blue-haired punk. Setting her loot down, she leaned in to give the other girl a soft peck before sitting and getting her laptop booted up.

"What were you thinking?" she asked, genuinely intrigued.

Taking a swig to finish her current bottle and grabbing a slice of pizza, she sat beside her girlfriend leaning into her shoulder. "So, remember how we said we'd rewrite this thing? May as well type it up and print off. Easier to keep track of. Plus…" She picked up the original piece of paper, holding it gingerly. "I think this one's probably on its way to becoming dust."

The blonde chuckled at the description, "Do... do we include the things that've already been done?" she asked, her words sounding a bit more serious.

After a moment of consideration, the bluenette nodded. "Yeah. Even if we just cross them out once it's printed, they still mean a lot." Looking at the original list, her eyes fell to the first item. "Case in point, we're not in shithole Arcadia Bay anymore."

Opening up the word processor on her laptop, she began typing. Just as before, she split the page into two columns, each headed with their names. Hers took the left, with Chloe's sitting in pride of place on the right. Then, she began with their first goal.

**Escape Arcadia Bay|Escape Arcadia Bay**

She followed it up with another item, and another and another. All in quick succession.

**Actually start a bucket list|What she said**

**Get answers|Get the facts**

**Meet the elusive Max Caulfield|See Max again**

**Beat this** _ **fucking**_   **aneurysm|Walk again**

**Fall in love|Fall in love**

She paused, meeting the eyes of the girl she loved, knowing they'd have one more thing to cross off.

Together, they spent what felt like hours typing away, coming up with more and more items to fill their renewed bucket list with. Life... life was too short to sit around and mope all day. Life needed excitement, mystery... But most of all, life needed to be lived.

Once again, they left a specific item at the end of the list.

**One day, I'm going to climb Everest|One day, I'm going to climb Everest**

Looking at each other, pure love in their gazes, they met for a quick kiss. It felt like they had years of these to make up for.

Noting the time on the screen, Rachel gasped. She hadn't realized how late it was. "Shit, Chloe… it's three in the morning." That made her laugh; she had almost forgotten this feeling, wanting to stay up and just… talk about nothing and everything. "We need sleep and…" she faltered, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. "I, uh… would you… come sleep in my bed tonight? I'd like to actually hold my…  _girlfriend_." The word felt so foreign but so welcome on her tongue.

"Shit, Rach, I thought you'd never ask," the bluenette responded with suggestive playfulness. Faltering, her expression shifted to serious and then sheepish. "But really, yes I'd love to. And… maybe nothing funny tonight."

"Oh, shame," the blonde teased lightly with a wink before helping her lover into the wheelchair.

She hoped one day, it wouldn't be necessary. Getting to bed tonight was a very different performance from the usual nightly routine of separation. When they were ready, dressed down to tees and shorts they climbed into bed, each independently.

They met in the middle, lips grazing for a kiss before the bluenette turned completely to face the smaller blonde. The punk's arms wrapped around her girlfriend tightly as she pressed a series of kisses into the golden tresses.

"Goodnight, Rachel. I love you."

"I love you too, Chloe," the shorter girl muttered, sleepy and content.

That night ended up being one of the most peaceful they'd ever experienced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:  
> *I shit you not, there was a disclaimer at the bottom of this chapter the entire time I wrote it, telling me not to hurt them. Liv will gladly vouch!*
> 
> -TjwCroft
> 
> *He shits you not :p*
> 
> \- NYCP


	7. See old friends|Face old friends/Make new ones

**See old friends|Face old friends/Make new ones**

_06:32, Thursday 31st, October 2013 - The Apartment:_

Hair.

Lots of it, and blonde.

And it smelled of jasmine.

Chloe grinned, as she began to wake up to the scent of her girlfriend's shiny locks, all bushy and disheveled from sleep. The bluenette began to separate herself from the beautiful still sleeping angel in front of her, taking care not to disturb the girl who was slightly snoring.

The punk moved herself into her chair, not wanting to make too much noise, and knowing full well her crutches would clank all over the place. Ever since the… incident, neither of them had managed to get much sleep. Any they did get was troubled at best. Recently, the persistent nightmares had taken a backseat, giving them a break. It was all still floating around in their minds but they had other things to focus on.

A potential future.

Making her way to the kitchen, the bluenette wheeled around the table towards the fridge. Popping open the door, she looked to see what there was that she could make on her own for breakfast. Quickly, she realized that anything quick and microwaveable was in the freezer, just outside of her reach. Taking the jug of orange juice, she huffed, opening the top and bringing it to her lips.

"You know I hate it when you drink straight from the jug. You could've woken me up. I don't like waking up without you there..." A soft, sleep-dazed voice called out from behind.

Leaning against the hallway arch in a tee and boyshorts, arms crossed and hair still a mess, Rachel gave her girlfriend a slightly disappointed look. It certainly wasn't the first time this had happened - nor would it be the last through her extensive experience - but nonetheless, she wanted to reinforce the lesson.

"And besides... What will our guests tonight think of us if we're drinking like that? They'll think we're savages!" A slight grin broke through, a giggle ending the sentence.

Sighing dramatically, the wheelchair-bound girl looked back to her lover, and rolled her eyes. "Yes dear, of course dear... We must think of the guests!" She feigned a fancy British accent - poorly, as Rachel might add - and set the open juice on the table. "Then would milady be so kind as to grab me a glass? I don't know why we haven't remedied this height issue yet..." The blue-haired punk grumbled, only half-way expecting a response.

"If I recall, that was your choice. You said, and I quote: 'Chloe Price will not be stumped by high cabinets or shelves', and then you collapsed from your crutches. I remember you asking me to rub your ass because of it..." The playful barb was in no way malicious.

All through her reminder, the blonde made her way to a cabinet, wondering how it was that the shorter of them was now the one that had to get everything from tall spaces. Hell, if the reason wasn't so morbid, it would verge on comical. Especially given the seemingly endless supply of short jokes and teasing in the punk's arsenal. With any luck, that wouldn't be the case much longer.

That much Chloe had set her mind to. Vehemently.

Every day for the last two weeks, they'd been to physical therapy. And every one of those days, the punk had pushed herself to keep going, harder and harder, until the PT trainer and Ryan had both agreed that she could walk with crutches.

That night they'd drank.

The next night, she'd collapsed, having misjudged how wide her stance was, and had nearly cut her hand open on the glass that she'd dropped in her fall. But that didn't stop the bluenette in any way.

It only served to strengthen her resolve.

The blue-haired punk narrowed her eyes at being called out. "Hey, don't misuse my own quotes against me."

"Oh, is that what we're calling it now? Even after all these years, your logic still astounds me," the blonde chuckled, sorting out some breakfast.

"Guess I'm too complicated to work out, huh?" Chloe asked as the other girl grabbed some cups and began pouring juice.

"Hardly. I pretty much know you inside out by now. Doesn't mean I can't be surprised every once in a while." The thing that had amazed her the most about the bluenette was just how hard she had fought to get to this point.

Chloe Price had been through  _plenty_ of shit since 2008, tragedy after tragedy. Each chipped away at her soul, making her bitter and jaded. While her behavior had been self-destructive at times, she managed to stumble through. Keep going. Life kept chewing her up, spitting her out and repeating. It was any wonder there was a person capable of smiling left. Especially grins reminiscent of her old self, full of mischief but masking even more pain than before.

A stifled laugh brought her from her musings. "Uh, Rach… you're kind of making a mess."

Hazel eyes flickered to the carton she had absentmindedly been pouring out, juice overflowing like a gentle fountain. "Ah… fuck…" she muttered, sharply pulling it up to prevent further spillage.

"You know, I might consider implementing a swear jar. Would be a goldmine around here," the punk added, sentence turning wistful part way through. A reminder of her father.

Grabbing some paper towel, Rachel examined the spill to figure out the best way for cleaning. "If you want to go broke, sure. Might have enough for that dream Paris trip by the end of next week."

"Or your Everest climb…" Chloe mentioned, expression shifting from playful to sad.

Abandoning her cleaning, the blonde crouched down so she could look her girlfriend in the eye, putting her hand on her cheek and lightly rubbing with her thumb. " _Our_  Everest climb."

"Sticky hands, Rach," the wheelchair-bound girl muttered, only half-complaining.

"That's what she said." That was enough to make them both chuckle, Rachel soon returning to her morning mission.

After breakfast, they ventured outside to get a few things in for tonight. This would be the first real social event they had either attended or hosted since… in months. Maybe they would end up going overboard with snacks, drinks and other party essentials. Who could blame them? Rachel, in particular, was a party animal through and through. Tonight would be quieter than most ragers she'd attended, but there was still plenty of chance for fun.

As they reached the local convenience store just down the road from them - Chloe in her wheelchair and Rachel following just behind - the two girls found themselves excitedly watching the various restaurants and bars put up last minute decorations and pumpkins, carved into exquisite designs.

"Hey babe, any chance we could carve some pumpkins for tonight? Or..." the bluenette paused, an idea forming in her mind. "What if... what if we got pumpkins for  _everyone_  tonight, and we make a thing out of  _carving_  them together?" The excitement in her voice was clear.

While the model thought the idea was a wonderful one, something struck at her heart when the girl she loved talked about carving things up. The sight of Nathan... shoving...

_No._

Not today. Today was a good day, and  _fuck_  anything that decided to try to drag them down. If her girlfriend wanted to carve pumpkins with their friends who were coming from Blackwell, then  _damnit_ , they would carve some pumpkins.

"Yes, let's do that. I like the idea," the blonde gritted her teeth, making sure she appeared cheerful and confident. The skill was far from honed as it had been before, but it was one she still possessed.

The other girl frowned slightly, picking up on the semi-forced action. She decided not to push it. Some things were just best left alone. At least, until someone was ready to share.

Taking a cart, the girls went along to do their shopping, stopping first at the produce section for the pumpkins. "Remind me, how many do we need, Chlo?"

After doing some mental calculations, Chloe replied, "Seven. One for you, me, Dana, Juliet, Steph, Kate and… Victoria."

The hazel-eyed blonde managed a genuine smile. "It'll feel weird having the ex-queen bitch of Blackwell at our Halloween shindig, huh?"

Chloe mirrored her expression of amused surprise. "If you'd have told me this like three years ago, I would've so hit you. I still might."

"We have it on good authority she's changed for the better," Rachel muttered softly.

The uncovering of Nathan's crimes had been a huge wake-up call for the bitchy blonde. It had inspired a total overhaul of her personality. Not only that, but she found an unlikely friend in Kate Marsh. The quieter girl was an immeasurable good influence on her.

"I'll believe it when I see it," the bluenette replied, inspecting the pumpkins and grabbing the one she wanted.

Pumpkins got, they grabbed various snacks and drinks alongside some decorations for their apartment. Thinking they were done, Chloe started wheeling herself towards the checkout. When she didn't hear footsteps close by, she stopped. Rachel was nowhere to be seen.

Swallowing the immediate flood of panic, she headed back down the second to last aisle. Not there. As she turned the corner, her heart eased out of her throat. Rachel was stood there, eyeing up the various bottles with a pensive expression. Wheeling up alongside the short blonde, who now wore a once familiar mischievous grin, the punk looked over at the bottles as well.

"You know... when you used to get that look, it often meant we were doing something we shouldn't be." Nostalgia swept over the two girls, bringing memories of times in Arcadia when they'd gotten their hands on booze in a slew of ways.

"Since neither of us is twenty-one..." The blonde pondered an idea, looking down at the wheelchair her lover was sitting in.

Draped around most of the bottom half was a blanket - a gift from Joyce to keep her daughter warm - that covered all of the storage space underneath the chair. Glancing up at the ceiling, she looked for any cameras finding none.

"What're you plotting, babe?..." The punk actually seemed nervous about what her girlfriend was up to, beginning to put two and two together. "Oh, come on... We're actually doing this?"

Grinning, the model looked down at a large bottle of wine and a number of other various liquors. The wine reminded her of their first day together, stealing the bottle from the... confused picnickers.

"Yes. We need a little trouble to stir up things, don't you think?" Taking the bottles, Rachel began to slide them into the hanging net under the chair, taking care not to let them clink too loudly. "Anything you would like?" she asked, knowing that at some point the punk's rebellious tendencies would shine through.

"That... that cider stuff sounds pretty tasty," the bluenette admitted, looking at the refrigerated section across the aisle. "Mom did say she'd started drinking the stuff and she liked it."

Taking a moment to lean in and plant a kiss on the sitting girl's forehead, the caretaker all but waltzed to the fridge door, pulling it open and settling on a six pack of some random brand. She picked it up, quickly closing the door when she heard someone walking around behind the shelves of drinks, probably about to stock them. Once again, she cautiously slid the pack under the chair then let the blanket fall back down, keeping the alcohol hidden.

They returned to their actual shopping, heading around the store. This small detour gave Chloe a chance to practice her ninja level bottle hiding skills. A total success.

Until they'd finished paying and went to leave.

The weather strip on the bottom of the door bounced the entire chair slightly, the clinking of glass and metal obvious.

However as the clerk at the register looked up, he saw nothing but a girl in a wheelchair - one who looked far too young to have to be in it.

* * *

_16:03, Thursday 31st, October 2013 - The Apartment:_

With everything set, all Chloe and Rachel had to do was wait. They'd gone all out on decorating the place, ensuring a spooky vibe. Dim lights with candles, artificial spider webs, hanging skeletons and bats. Skull shaped bowls and plates lined the table, filled with finger food. Their hard-earned booze sat in the fridge, keeping cool with other drinks.

"Well, I think we did a good job," the blonde announced approvingly as hazel eyes roamed over their work. "I'm sure the others will be impressed."

"Honestly, I think they'll be more impressed and/or skeptical about the booze," Chloe pointed out with a slight smile.

Before Rachel could reply, the buzzer to their apartment cut her off. "I guess we'll find out in a second."

Giving herself a quick once over in the mirror, happy with the way her ghoulish face paint skills turned out, she went to greet their first guests. Dana and Juliet turned out first, giving her a tight hug. This was the first time they had seen her since the move.

As they pulled away, Dana offered a gentle smile. "It's been too long, Rach."

"Yeah, we were… starting to get worried," the lighter-haired of the pair admitted with a slight frown.

In the past six months, she had been much less social than before. She barely kept in touch with others outside her small bubble, so nobody aside from Chloe and the string of medical staff. Honestly, she hadn't wanted to face the inevitable looks of pity, painful reminders.

"It's been… busy. Chaotic might be a better word. Things are on the up, though." Compared to what they had been several months ago… "Anyway, shall we head inside?"

The three of them stepped into the apartment. Chloe nervously wheeled herself closer, giving an awkward wave. "S'up?"

Sometimes, she found herself feeling self-conscious about the chair. She knew people would look at her, no matter where she went. Mostly, she had learned to cope… but only in certain settings. At least in public, people would come and go only giving her a passing glance. Here, in a more intimate setting, the same sets of eyes would be on her constantly. The only people she'd spent considerable time around were Rachel, her mom and hospital staff. People who were used to it by now.

Thankfully, Juliet and Dana seemed unfazed, the former waving back. "Hey, Chloe. Like what you've done with the place."

"As a Halloween nerd, I approve," Dana added with a genuine grin of delight at the decorations.

Bowing down with a flourish of her hand, Rachel grinned, "Many thanks, oh knowledgeable one!" She barely finished the sentence before breaking into a fit of giggles. "But no seriously, thank you. If anyone knows how to make a place ooze Halloween it's you, so your approval  _must_  say something about our skills."

Rolling up to her lover's side, decked out in a pirate costume - pistol and all - the punk playfully punched the blonde's hip. "Come on, Rach! Don't make them think we're  _weird nerds_..." Wrapping an arm around the person she cared most about, she leaned her head into the same hip she'd just punched. "I mean... even though we totally are..." she chuckled softly.

Dana observed the interaction between the girls, seeing the bluenette wrap her arm affectionately around the blonde. "Jules, you owe me twenty bucks," she grinned, giving the couple a knowing look.

Sighing, Juliet grumbled something under her breath. As hard as she tried, Dana  _always_ seemed to be on the right side of their bets. Not that she could complain too much about this outcome. Rachel and Chloe deserved this much. The two girls had coordinated their costumes, going for a Harley Quinn/Poison Ivy combo. Since they went to literally every party together, it had become a tradition to match.

Rachel gave their choice an approving nod. "Liking the costumes."

"Well thank you. Still, I don't think anything will ever hold up to those tempest costumes," the cheerleader pondered, "Though... now that I think about it, that's probably the nostalgia talking..."

As the blonde led their guests towards the living room, the door buzzed again. Wanting to be more than an interactive decoration, the bluenette pirate rolled herself towards the door.

"I've got it, babe," she called, taking hold of the doorknob. She opened the door to find three more people.

"See! I told you! Pay up Vic!"

Blue eyes met a pair of apologetic gray ones from the girl dressed in the least likely costume ever. Kate - with Steph and Victoria behind her - wore a frilly red tutu of sorts, poofing well out around her. The top was a more revealing dress than Chloe remembered the young girl ever wearing before. On her head were a set of red horns and laying on the poof was a tail, ending in a red heart. She made a really cute devil, that was certain.

To almost everyone's surprise, aside from Kate, Victoria hadn't gone for some generic 'slutty' costume. Instead, she had tapped into that inner anime nerd of hers and done a pretty convincing Weiss Schnee from RWBY. Icy blue contacts and a long wig - white, fashioned into an off-center bun-tail pinned with an icicle-shaped tiara - made her almost unrecognizable. She wore a white thigh-length, strapless dress fading from white to pale blue. Over the top sat a bell-sleeved bolero jacket, lined in red with a ruffled collar complete with a snowflake shaped crest. As a perfectionist, she had paid great attention to smaller details. Actually thinking ahead for the sake of others - unlike she would've months ago - she had refrained from bringing the replica Myrtenaster rapier.

That earned an approving nod from Steph, the other less closeted nerd of the group. The brunette had decided to really outdo herself this year. Excited for the new Maleficent film trailer, she had decked herself out in a costume to match the anticipation. She was particularly proud of how the horns had turned out, spending hours sketching designs and translating them from paper to practice. All in all, the entire outfit had turned out great.

"Damn, guys. You all really went out on the costumes. I'm hella impressed," Rachel grinned, genuinely looking forward to what the night would bring.

"Hey, quit stealing my thing," the bluenette pouted. "It's  _hella_ lame."

"Need I remind you that  _I_ was the one to introduce you to the word," the hazel-eyed blonde retorted, sticking out her tongue. "You just latched onto the word and use it  _way_ more than me."

"Are you saying I'm a… copycat?" Chloe asked, mocking offense. "I'm the most unique thing out there." Unintentionally, she passed a glance Victoria's direction.

"I feel like that was a subtle dig at me," the photographer announced, not angry. In fact, she managed a smile at her own expense.

"No doubt about it," Dana agreed, glad to see the ex-tyrant in a more humble mindset… even if it had taken such a drastic shock to the system.

It may have just saved her from doing something she  _really_ regretted.

"Oh sure, nobody's ever done the whole 'blue hair, tats and 'tude' gig before in an act of rebellion," Rachel chuckled softly. " _So_  original."

Flipping her off, Chloe moved herself over to the table and piled one of the paper plates with food. She considered biting back, but knew better than anyone how self-conscious the modelesque blonde was of her own injuries. More so than Chloe would probably ever be. There was most definitely a reason her face was coated in skull-themed makeup.

The scars left on her body from that living nightmare had become her largest insecurity. Fuck the time-bomb in her head; going from universally sought-after celebrity to almost Frankenstein's monster in appearance, once flawlessly smooth skin blemished beyond repair, had done a number on her self-esteem. The two most prominent marks - a groove crossed under her right eye and another running down the opposite cheek - would forever have a deep red tint to them without makeup. Even glancing in the mirror was a fifty-fifty chance for a tearful breakdown.

Scooping up some of the salsa from one bowl, and a handful of corn chips from another, she set the plate on her lap. Once she'd gotten her first serving, she wheeled away to let the next person in line have clear access to the table. As much as she hated to admit it, the chair meant she got in the way a lot. She went to go find Steph, hoping to catch up with the nerd.

"Firstly, the horns are badass!" the pirate complemented the dark fairy, grinning as she offered a fistbump to her old friend. "Secondly, how have you been? It's been way too fucking long!" She grabbed one of the chips with her free hand.

Responding to the fistbump, and then pulling back and blowing up her hand, Steph grinned with what almost looked like a soft blush on her cheeks. "Thanks! They took  _waaaay_  too long to make, but I'm really proud of them. And I'm so pumped for the movie!" The brunette exclaimed gleefully. " _Plus!_  I totally get to wear this for Seattle Comic-Con next year!"

Smiling genuinely at the smaller girl's geek-out, Chloe couldn't help but think how adorable it was that the nerd was so excited about the things she was. "Okay, now I'm gonna have to be jealous, because I totally wanna go!" The punk pouted slightly, getting a chuckle from her friend. "So... believe it or not... I got Rach utterly  _hooked_  on Voyager!"

From the other side of the kitchen, the model watched her girlfriend bond with her old friend. She could remember the moment the bluenette had mentioned the nerdy girl's massive crush. Smiling softly, she turned back to the other blonde beside her, or more accurately, the white-haired girl.

Victoria.

"So..." She eyed the costume the photographer wore up and down. "I can't say I know the reference, but I think you really did an awesome job with it!" she complimented, genuinely impressed with the getup.

"Thank you, Rachel. That means a lot coming from you." The taller girl blushed slightly, as she looked down at the table, gathering some food of her own. "Your costume looks really awesome too! And I love the makeup! I wish I could be that talented with it. I always thought it'd be cool to do a zombie face or something with the hanging flesh and whatnot..." She suddenly froze, realizing that she was incredibly close to crossing into dangerous territory.

She'd read all the articles, and for the first month since had been completely unable to even consider what happened. How could someone she thought she'd known so well have turned out to have been so...  _evil_? In her self-imposed social exile, she'd separated herself from Courtney and Taylor, who had gone to find other people to hang out with, leaving her alone.

One day, a hesitant knock had halted her dorm room trashing rampage. One that belonged to none other than sweet and wholesome Kate Marsh. It was a complete surprise to learn that seemingly inconsequential event had been the key she needed to finally open up and begin to challenge herself. The shy blonde had been there every step of the way through Victoria's acceptance of the events which had devastated their hosts' lives. That included the time when she had been truly depressed enough to consider taking her own life.

Kate had been there. Truly like an angel.

Through the young artist, the taller blonde had met their now mutual nerd extraordinaire, with whom Victoria had quickly bonded over their mutual fandoms. The two had become almost inseparable as friends and had been fast to organize geek out nights with movies or animes, depending on their moods.

But it all came back to the shy girl that now wore a devil outfit, tail and horns and all... While Kate had helped soften and brighten the photographer's life, the taller girl had, in turn, helped her new friend become more confident in her own image and body. The way Victoria had initially explained it was that now that she was eighteen, she could make her own choices without having to feel pressured by her parents.

It had taken a while, but eventually Kate had begun to blossom into confidence in her personality, her own personal beliefs - which had begun to differ from the strong religious background she'd been raised in - and in her appearance. Where once she'd worn clothes meant to hide one's body, now she wore dresses and outfits that accentuated her natural beauty. In place of her almost permanent bun now hung long, straight blonde hair flowing down to her shoulders.

If only she had the same degree of tact as the once immensely shy blonde. This whole… thinking about what she said  _before_ she said it thing was… very new to her. From loudly announcing whatever she pleased regardless of the lives hurt to the other end of the scale. She was painfully aware of her old self, trying desperately to distance herself from that frankly horrible person.

Progress wasn't without its slip-ups, like now proved. She just hoped Rachel wouldn't take it personally.

"Rachel, I'm sorry. I didn't  _think_ , and I really didn't mean to be so insensitive..." she backtracked quickly, honest apology in her voice as she faced the hazel-eyed blonde in front of. "I'm really trying to think things through before I say them and sometimes I still slip..." She brought her hands together, wringing them slightly.

Not all personality changes were necessarily made by choice. Some seemed driven by a need to separate herself from the atrocities committed by someone she once considered a friend. Many residents of Arcadia Bay - and certainly students attending Blackwell - were left with scars of some sort after the Dark Room.

Rachel met the photographer's green gaze softly, a heartfelt smile on her own lips. "Victoria. Tori... Do you mind if I call you Tori?" she paused, receiving an acknowledgment from the blonde. "Tori, I promise you, you did nothing wrong. You can't be blamed for a faux pas, nor can I tell you to avoid certain topics just because I've got… scars..." the model faltered, but kept on strong. "Do I struggle? Yes. And you will too. There's a rather steep learning curve, if I'm honest." She chuckled softly, remembering how she'd had to slowly guide her blue butterfly to be more sociable. "But let me let you in on a secret. The kind of people you really want in your life will forgive you for slip-ups. The good people will know that you're growing as a person and will accept you that much more for it." Looking at the two girls that had come with her conversational partner, her smile widened. "And the people you've got in your court already are definitely of the good kind."

Victoria's jade gaze followed the hazel one to the short blonde dressed in red, and her heart melted the way it always did when looking at Kate. "Rach... I think you're right." She smiled fondly. "I... I really like her... A lot..." the photographer trailed off, not needing to elaborate on her statement any further.

The model beside her nodded softly, understanding that feeling better than most would. "I can see that, Tori. Just... promise me that you'll tread carefully. I know Kate is more full of love than everyone else in this apartment combined. I just don't know how some things might clash with her upbringing. I don't want to see either of you hurt. You're both good people. And Tori, you're proving that right now." Pulling out her phone, she motioned for the taller girl to do the same. "Have my number, text me any time. And I really mean any time. You deserve to have more people who believe in you." She took her newest friend's phone and typed in her contact info, watching as the photographer did the same.

Once they were done, the shorter girl grinned. " _Sooooo_ , what're your plans now that Blackwell is done with you?"

* * *

As soon as the fridge had been opened by the wheelchaired punk, and the various bottles and cans of alcohol had been brought out, the tense atmosphere began to dissipate. It was also agreed upon that everyone who drank would end up staying the night.

Looking around the kitchen, dining and living rooms, Rachel could see that every single person had a drink in their hands.

_Well then..._

Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat to get everyone's attention. "Now we're all here and settled, I wanted to say something very quickly. First, thanks for coming. I know these past few months have been… hard for everyone and I don't need to go into the details. That's not why we're here. We're here right now to have a good time and just…"

"Meet old friends and new," the bluenette finished, noticing that Rachel was struggling just a little.

Most might not even realize; she did hide it well. Years of practice. Chloe knew her well enough to recognize the subtle signs. The thing was, she didn't  _have_ to bear the burden on her own. Neither of them did.

Offering a thankful half-smile, the blonde composed herself again. "Exactly. So, enough jabbering and let's get wasted."

That speech was met with mostly cheers, and a few semi-hesitant glances, primarily from Kate and Steph, who certainly weren't the most party-oriented of people in the room. Though truth be told, they'd definitely had their fair share of nights with alcohol included since bringing Victoria into the fold.

After everyone had knocked back a swig or two of their drinks, the various individuals all expressed various reactions, depending on the strength of their respective concoctions. This ranged from complaints of being too weak to faces scrunched up from the taste. To everyone's surprise, Kate was not amongst the latter. She quietly sipped at her drink, Victoria eyeing her up to check she was doing okay. In fact, the pixie blonde turned out to be more of a lightweight. Dana and Juliet, used to drinking, didn't hold back. While Steph wasn't much of a drinker, she did join in. As for Chloe and Rachel, they took it steady.

Eventually, they all found their way huddled around the TV. Chloe and Rachel took up point on the couch, with Steph claiming the armchair. Victoria and Kate set up shop on the floor, cushions adding comfort as they huddled close. Dana and Juliet grabbed some dining chairs, positioning them to get a better view. With everyone settled, various drinks and snacks on hand, the hazel-eyed blonde got to work setting up for classic Halloween themed movies.

"So, what do we all want to watch?" Rachel asked, gathering up the options.

To keep it simple, she gave them three choices. Any more than that and it would've taken them the whole night to decide. Even with the limited choices, there was a degree of infighting. Some of the group had much… gorier tastes. The blonde had purposely avoided anything too close to home mostly for her own and Chloe's sake. One day, they might be able to watch certain more serious scenes without wanting to throw up. Now was not that time.

After much debate, and complaint, they settled on a more balanced mix of humor and horror, in the form of 'The Cabin in the Woods'. While most had already seen it, there were definitely a few notable exceptions.

"Trust me, Kate, it's not really scary! I promise!" the resident nerd exclaimed wildly, hands flailing around as she tried to explain without spoiling the plot. "You'll love it! I know you will!" She sighed, exasperated in her attempts to convince the blonde that she wouldn't need to hide.

Victoria looked over, putting a reassuring hand on the young devil's shoulder, "Katie... Do you trust me?" Her question earned a soft nod. "I promise you, this movie isn't really scary. And if you feel scared, just grab my hand and squeeze as tightly as possible."

The smaller girl chewed her lip momentarily as she pondered her friend's words. Deciding that Victoria had yet to be dishonest with her, then the movie had to be at least bearable. "O... Okay... But I'm gonna need more to drink..."

A slight giggle came from the modelesque blonde sitting on the couch, who buried her face in her hands to hide the blush that had crept over her cheeks. The bluenette sat next to her gave a quizzical look, genuinely confused as to what might be so funny. Deciding to be sly, her girlfriend grabbed her phone and began typing a new message.

 **Rachel:**  Okay, lips sealed, Chlo, cause I don't wanna ruin this. Tori is hardcore crushing on Kate. Like. Head over heels.

 **Chloe:**  Tori?

 **Chloe:**  You're suddenly on a nickname basis with Victoria...

 **Chloe:** Wait...

 **Chloe:** Are you serious?

 **Chloe:** Isn't Kate all like...

 **Rachel:**  Super religious?

 **Rachel:** Something tells me her religion might not be such a driving factor anymore. But still.

 **Rachel:** Don't tell anyone. I want this to work...

 **Rachel:** Hopefully...

 **Chloe:**  You totally ship them. I see it now...

 **Chloe:**  Wait...

 **Chloe:** Did you ship us too before?

 **Rachel:**  ...

 **Rachel:**  Uh...

Glancing over at the blonde, Chloe could see nothing but bright red flooding her lover's face.

" _Figures... ya nerd!_ " she whispered softly, nuzzling Rachel's cheek and planting a soft kiss.

* * *

True to her word, Victoria had served as a teddy bear throughout the movie. Though as the movie went on, started being funnier, and as Kate imbibed more and more alcohol, she'd gone from being a teddy bear to a cuddle partner. It seemed that a drunk Kate Marsh was an  _extremely_  cuddly person.

There were no complaints to be heard from the group.

Dana and Juliet had eventually moved to the floor as well as they'd drank more, concerned about spilling drinks and food. A decent gap was left between them after the move. Glancing over, Rachel wondered if maybe that friendship was going through rougher waters than they let on.

If anyone knew about hiding real feelings, it was likely the Amber in the room.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a certain brunette pass frequent glances at the cheerleader. As her mind whirred with possibility, she felt a rather unexpected nip at her neck. It took all her concentration to suppress the surprised yelp. Her gaze darted to the punk sat beside her, frowning slightly.

" _Hey! What are you doi-?_ " She was interrupted by another soft yet noticeable bite, feeling her cheeks flush again.

It wasn't that she was inexperienced by any means. But, since the night of hell and more recently the beginning of their romantic relationship, neither she nor Chloe had brought up the topic of intimacy. Sure, they shared a bed and slept wrapped up in each other every night. And they saw the other naked almost daily.

But on the topic of sex?

No activity on that front.

Not that this seemed to stop the bluenette from being  _unbelievably_ playful at that moment. " _Chloe Elizabeth Price! Behave!_ " she whispered, swatting away the hands that began to reach towards her.

Looking more and more like a lost puppy, Chloe froze, pouting more than was necessary. " _But baaabe..._ " Just as she finished whining the movie ended. Everyone began to move around, some getting up to use the bathrooms.

They had guests to get settled in for the night.

Taking charge, the blonde began subtly herding everyone to their designated areas. Already having prepared, gathering together all the pillows and blankets they owned, she somehow managed to get them all moved around without too much hassle. Most had hit the sleepy drunk phase, more than ready to just pass out until morning. Dana was a little rowdier, insisting she wanted to watch something else.

Now free of her costume, replaced by a pair of sweats and a tee, Steph was struck with a bolt of inspiration. Pulling out her phone, she shuffled closer to the taller brunette. "Listen, I've got access to pretty much every film known to mankind. So long as we're quiet, we can watch something. Everyone else is…"

She looked around, finding Kate and Victoria knocked out already, the smaller girl smiling widely as she wrapped her arms around the other. Juliet wasn't too far behind, head nodding as she tried to stay awake.

Chloe and Rachel nodded to the nerd, agreeing with her plan as they moved towards the doorway. The bluenette's face was stuck in a deep-set frown, while her blonde partner's tired smile waned.

Dana looked around as well, before eagerly taking the earbud offered to her and whispering ideas about movies to her new late night viewing partner. They moved closer together, with Steph sliding under the blanket when the cheerleader offered.

Deciding that the night was essentially over, the two in the hallway moved towards their room. The punk wheeled in first, moving next to the bed. Taking off her remaining pirate attire, she left her other half to close the door.

When Rachel turned back to face the bed, she found herself meeting a sad and disappointed glare.

"Do... do you not want me, like  _that_?" The question cut deep. Painfully deep.

"Chloe... What... Why would you ever think that? I love you, more than anything in the world!" she cried out, not even sure how to respond to that question. It didn't help that they were both well and drunk.

"Bullshit! You pushed me away!" The punk's voice was getting louder, angrier. Too loud. And with far too much pain in her words for the blonde to ignore.

Not wanting her to get the wrong idea, the shorter girl rushed to the bathroom to grab a handful of makeup wipes. Returning to the bedroom, she diligently wiped away every trace of her skeletal mask. Each slightly damp stroke exposed the marked skin underneath, pale blue eyes watching her every move. It had been a while since the wheelchair-bound girl had seen Rachel's face without any cover up to speak of. Even at night, the blonde was reluctant to expose her scars. Once finished, she let out a shaky breath and knelt down in front of the girl she loved.

"Chloe, I love you. I always will. More than I will ever be able to put into words. I want to spend the rest of my days with you. That means I want you in  _every_  way there is." She took hold of her lover's hands, looking earnestly into her eyes.

"But... you're ashamed of me... Why else wouldn't you want…?" The punk was quickly cut off with a kiss to the lips.

"Because we were in public, with people we're just now seeing for the first time in over six months. It's not the right time nor place. And... we've never really even talked about sex..." she sighed, wanting so desperately to make the woman she loved understand. "I want to have sex with you. But not when we're drunk. And not when there's our friends out in the living room. I want it to be just us here. I want it to be the most magical thing for you. I want..." She froze, seeing a lone tear roll down the pale cheek in front of her.

"I'm so sorry, Rach... I didn't think... I'm so sorry. That was so insensitive of me... Babe... Rach... I love you too. I really do!" She took hold of the blonde's face, pulling her in for a long kiss. "You are my world, Rach, my angel! And... since... since all the shit... I haven't felt like much of anyone would want broken old me."

Feeling the pain in the blue-haired girl's words, hazel eyes winced. "Chloe... You're not broken. You're my perfect butterfly..." she paused, thinking through the words she was about to say. "Some asshole took you by the wings and didn't take care of you. But that doesn't mean you're broken. Fuck the wheelchair. Fuck the crutches or that contraption you refuse to leave Ryan alone about..."

Her voice cracked. Even after all this time, it was still so fucking hard to face. And it would continue to be that way for the rest of their days. Nobody could just get over something like that, no matter how much they both wanted to. No, things would  _never_ go back to being 'normal'. To a degree, they had accepted that. Didn't help much.

Composing herself, she continued more calmly but with as much passion as before. "None of those things matter, because you, in whatever state you are, are my world. You mean everything to me and more, and you are everything I want or ever will want. You are the most beautiful person I have ever met, and I want so badly for you to see yourself the way I see you. I want to make love to you one day, and maybe someday soon. I just want all of you."

Chloe didn't have words to reply with. Only actions. She pulled Rachel closer, held her as close as she could possibly take her into her arms. As the silence lingered, they just stayed there.

When they finally broke the hug, there were still no words. Silently, with both of their hearts much lighter and totally exhausted, they made their way into bed, drifting into a peaceful sleep as they held each other tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> *Damn... This took way, way longer than I wanted it to write. But, I feel that it does justice to the way these people would feel. It can only go up from here, right?*
> 
> -TjwCroft
> 
> *So yeah, this one was gonna be out on Halloween… RIP. Hope to see you in the next chapter.*
> 
> -NYCP


	8. Fall in love|Fall in love

**Fall in love|Fall in love**

_Chloe opened her eyes, and shut them almost immediately, blinded by a bright flash. Disoriented she blinked, her vision pierced by bright pinpricks of light. Everything was blurry. Panic kicked in, overwhelming. Her heart raced, body numb, mind clouded. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember where she was or how she'd got there. One thing she did know, something felt… wrong._

" _Where am I?!" she demanded, struggling against her bonds._

_She was kneeling, hands bound to her ankles behind her back. Slowly opening her eyes again, she was met with an icy blue gaze, colder than the void of space... belonging to none other than Nathan Prescott. That sent her into a renewed wave of dread._

" _What the fuck, Nathan!?" she screamed, fighting her restraints again and as a result falling over to her side._

_Grunting weakly, dull pain shot through the entire right hand side of her body. The floor below her was cold, like ice. With her vision still in and out of a blurry haze, that was the most potent sensation available to her. Focusing up, she listened to the slight echo of footsteps, subtle shifts in movement as her eyes adjusted once more._

_What she saw couldn't have been pulled from anywhere but her worst nightmares. The WORST of the worst, which didn't even compare to the average person's deepest darkest fears. In front of her, passed out on the ground with gashes cut into her face, lay her perfect angel._

_Rachel._

_For a moment, she was stunned. Frozen with terror at the currently unconscious girl. Not just any girl. To her, Rachel was the most important person in her life. Her savior from the constant bullshit life had to throw, not giving her a second to catch her breath. Without the blonde, Chloe had_ _**nothing** _ _. There would be no point in living anymore if anything happened to the model. In fact, she would rather take her own life than exist in a world without her angel._

_No exaggeration whatsoever._

" _Rach! Wake up! Fucking WAKE UP! PLEASE!" Her lungs refused to give her any more strength._

_What had this fucker done to the one person that still mattered?_

_Just as she was about to yell again at the sick fuck in front of her, she felt a hand roughly tangle in her hair. It took a firm grasp of her roots, painfully yanking her to her knees. Unable to stifle the expression of her physical suffering, she let out a sharp yelp at the sudden force. A deranged chuckle reached her ears, echoing around the small chamber-like room._

_Twitchy, bloodshot eyes pierced her very soul, intense. They burned with… hatred? No, it wasn't that. Not really. Excitement? Yes, definitely some form of twisted anticipation. That coupled with the other things she noticed in his eyes - too terrifying to even begin to comprehend - sent an involuntary shiver down her spine._

_Even without verbal confirmation, she knew he was about to say something seriously fucked up… and he didn't disappoint._

" _I'll give you a choice, Price." He left a dramatic pause, enjoying his role as tormentor. "One of you dies tonight. Because, fuck it!" The blond boy gave a sickeningly excited jump. Something was very,_ _ **very**_ _wrong with him. "Just cause I feel like it."_

_He turned towards the table behind him, picking up a didn't even register their presences, fiddling around with settings. Not once did his eyes waver, firmly planted on the device in his hands. Even the way he held it was creepy, fingers running along the sides._

_An obsession._

_After a moment or two, his attention drew back to the kneeling bluenette. "You'll choose which of you whores dies."_

_Her pulse quickened, heart pounding in her chest. She had no way of knowing if he was serious. He couldn't be serious. Right?_

_He wouldn't kill one of them... No amount of money could get him clear of that..._

_Right?_

_She glanced back down to Rachel, who for all intents and purposes looked pained even in her state of unconsciousness. Long blonde hair was disheveled, makeup streaks lining her scarred cheeks. This was_ _**not** _ _the Rachel she had grown to care for immensely; a mere shell._

_She knew people cared about the model. People would give a damn if she was missing. Whether people loved or loathed her, she was a keystone for both Blackwell and Arcadia as a whole._

_Nobody would care about a blue-haired delinquent punk._

" _Me..." she croaked looking up to her captor who had returned to face her, camera ready to start taking pictures. "Kill me. Just... leave her be... Please..."_

_The crazed boy in front of her grinned in a way that made her blood freeze. He almost didn't seem human right now._

" _That's the right choice, Chloe." A new voice came from behind him. A voice she recognized. One that shook her to the very core._

_Max's voice._

_Her mind blanked. This… wasn't possible. She couldn't be here right now. And yet… here she was. As much as she didn't want to accept this nightmare fuel… part of her actually felt happy to hear Max's voice again. Even if it had been twisted to haunt her. She would give anything to talk to her childhood best friend just one more time..._

" _You're not worth_ _ **anything**_ _. Why do you think I never got hold of you?" The brunette stepped out from the darkness, blood splatters splashed across her face. Something metallic glinted in her hand. "You're a clingy, needy bitch, Chloe. I never wanted to be around you. You were just a distraction." The petite girl closed the space between them._

_Dead blue eyes met panicked ones._

_Panicked eyes glanced down, moments too late._

_The cold steel once again shoved through her stomach, cracking through her spine._

_For as long as she lived, the sound would NEVER leave her mind._

* * *

_08:38, Friday 1st, November 2013 - The Apartment:_

"MAX, NO!"

Rachel took no more than the half-instant on hearing the scream to sit up, reaching to grab hold of the bluenette beside her. Her hands clasped to the sides of her lover's face, bringing blue eyes to face hazel ones. The sheer panic reflected in them made her heart break.

"Talk to me, babe. What was it?"

She searched for something to help calm the girl before her. Instinctively, she leaned in closer, taking hold of the taller girl and hugging her tightly. After seeing Chloe in such a state, she needed that embrace just as much. Every time the bluenette cried, screamed at the top of her lungs or just… stared blankly in defeat, it  _hurt_.

So. Damn. Much.

"I... It... Max..." The bluenette could barely breathe, panting heavily, unable to focus. "Max sta... stabbed me..." she got out, tears streaming down her face at the memory of the hauntingly dead-looking brunette standing over her, sword in her gut.

The blonde holding her froze. "Babe... Babe... It's just a dream. You know she'd never do that." She realized quickly what the nightmare had been. That…  _place._

It had been over half a year since the incident, and never once had the punk talked about what happened during their mutual night of hell. Never once had she opened up about her version of the events - No, the atrocities - that had befallen the pair.

For her own part, Rachel was afraid to ask.

Her own account was grim enough. It kept her up at night, or would wake her up in the early hours, and she'd escaped relatively unharmed. To imagine the things that Chloe had gone through...

She couldn't. And she wasn't sure she wanted to know...

But Chloe needed help, and that was above and beyond her own needs.

The bluenette slowly began to settle down, her breathing steadying eventually, the arms tight around her helping to ground her. She tried her hardest to purge her mind of the images.

"Chloe... You... you need to tell someone about what happened. It's eating you alive, and it hurts so much to watch you suffer... I love you... And... and... if it's not me you tell about this... then it needs to be someone who can do more to help..." She left the words to hang in the air, a pregnant pause hovering over them.

The punk stiffened, uncomfortable in every way with even  _considering_  talking about that night. The idea hurt, almost physically. And to add the loss of Max...

She pulled away slightly from the blonde, ready to start screaming obscenities about the pain, when she realized that the other girl's face was streaked with tears, flowing freely down her cheeks. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the look on her face exuded nothing but excruciating pain.

"I'll do it... I'll..." She hesitated for only a moment, the words she was about to use tasting bitter in her mouth, "I'll see a therapist."

The shorter girl gave a soft sob and lunged in again, grabbing tightly around the woman she loved.

"But... you have to go too..." the bluenette exhaled the last words of her sentence heavily, quieter.

She would agree to go, but only if her girlfriend would do the same. Too many times had the punk heard shrieks and cries from the other side of the hall, or even woken to them, to think that Rachel hadn't been dealing with the same sorts of demons.

The girl didn't freeze, per se, nor did she stiffen either, but there was momentary hesitation. Chloe understood. The pain they both felt was something nobody should ever have to endure, and they'd gone above and beyond surviving.

But they could only do so much for each other.

"O... Okay... I'll do it, for you." The smaller girl let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Her shoulders sagged as she leaned further into the woman she shared her bed with. Maybe talking to someone wouldn't be such a bad idea, if it might help her own nightmares.

Her train of thought was broken when she felt soft kisses being pressed to the top of her head, and a hand gently stroking the back of her hair, helping to soothe her anxiety. She pulled back slightly and looked up at the bluenette, hazel orbs meeting blue ones. The model leaned up, her lips pressing demandingly to her lover's. They stayed glued to each other for what felt like minutes. When they finally broke for air, the room felt lighter, as if the demons in their minds had been - if only temporarily - banished.

"I love you, Rachel Amber. Don't you ever forget that." The bluenette breathed heavily, catching her breath from their session, a soft chuckle beginning to form in her throat at the disheveled hair of the blonde in front of her. "You, and your lioness mane," she joked, ducking to avoid the pillow that quickly flew at her to follow suit.

"Only reason you don't have one is cause you cut it all off..." the smaller girl growled playfully, feeling younger than she had in years.

Something about Chloe had the model feeling like anything was possible, so long as the two of them were together.

At that moment, a forced cough filtered through from the other side of the door. The sound reminded them of a very important fact… they had guests. Both girls shared a wide-eyed expression, then a slight smirk before Rachel slid out of bed. She moved over to the door, finding herself face to face with none other than Kate Marsh.

"Oh! Hey Kate. Did you sleep well?" She smiled at the short blonde in front of her, then felt a slight pang of guilt. "We didn't wake you, did we?"

"Oh no! No, you didn't. I was already awake, and then I heard Chloe... And... I wanted to make sure you guys were alright." While she held herself with more confidence than ever before, the slight quiver in her voice betrayed might never disappear, but it was most certainly endearing nonetheless.

"It's..." the model began, going to say that it was nothing. But lying to Kate seemed like a foolish idea that would be seen through in the blink of an eye.

"Kate, why don't you come in?" A voice called from inside the room, saving her the trouble.

The blonde seemed surprised by the offer, nodding as Rachel stepped aside to let her in. A little awkward, she shuffled into the room. "Pardon the intrusion."

That made Chloe laugh. "If I didn't want you here, you'd know about it already."

"She'd have thrown half the room at you by now," Rachel confirmed, knowing from experience.

Relaxing ever so slightly, Kate managed a smile. Taking a seat on the desk chair, she positioned herself closer to the bed as the hazel-eyed blonde sat back down beside Chloe. That smile faded slightly as two sets of eyes fell on her, shuffling uncomfortably. Even now, she didn't like being the center of attention. Especially in situations like these.

Sensing the awkwardness, Rachel tried to lighten the mood. "So, what brings you here? You have to admit, it seems kind of creepy otherwise. Just hanging outside our door."

When she glanced away, Chloe chuckled. Kate's brow furrowed, suddenly worried that the model was being serious. Luckily, the punk on the bed eased her nerves. "She's just messing with you."

"Aw, no fun. You could've waited a little longer before rumbling me…" The blonde at the desk pouted playfully towards the bluenette.

Chloe gave a slight glare, not necessarily pleased that her lover was so eager to taunt the poor blonde girl who'd joined them. "You always take it too far." She looked over to Kate, "But seriously, did you want to talk about something?"

Still nervous, but certainly more relieved, the artist stumbled through her words

"I… yes. I, uh…"

"It's okay, Kate. Take your time." The model gave a meaningful look towards their friend, making certain that there was no judgment from either of the girls.

"I didn't mean to but… I was going to the bathroom and I heard… someone scream. So I... I tried to find out where it was and… then I heard voices. I was worried, so I went to investigate and… I'm sorry… I sort of overhead…" Kate trailed off, unable to finish.

She didn't need to.

Chloe's smile faltered for just a moment. "It's… fine. Don't worry about it."

"Listen, I don't mean to pry but… I might know someone. Who can help." The blonde twirled a strand of her hair anxiously. "Someone up here in Seattle... They helped Tori a lot..."

Rachel glanced over at the bluenette, whose glance lifted up at the words lingering in the air. "They're not one of those... shove pills down your throat... kind of people, right?" The punk was reluctant to jump headfirst into anything that might go too wrong anymore, and it showed.

The petite girl momentarily giggled, as if remembering something fondly, then quickly clasped a hand over her mouth with a look of horror cast over her features.

"Oh my goodness... I'm so sorry!" She nervously clutched the hem of the t-shirt she'd been given the night before. "It's just... Tori said something almost identical, though she was definitely more... dramatic... about it."

Neither Rachel nor Chloe had any difficulty picturing that. Victoria was prideful, begrudged seeking out any help. To her, it seemed like a failure. Maybe they could relate just a little, especially Chloe. Initially, she had  _hated_ having to rely on everyone, still did to an extent. The difference was that now she realized it was necessary. It didn't help much, but did put things into perspective.

Needing help didn't automatically equate to weakness. A hard lesson to learn.

Nodding sympathetically, Rachel leaned back on her hands. "Why am I not surprised by that? I can relate, since I've also had my hands full with a certain someone." She passed a sly glance Chloe's direction, not even trying to be subtle. "To say she's been a handful…"

The sentence was instantly cut off as another pillow went flying. "Asshole."

After a mini-pillow fight - ending when a stray one hit Kate by accident… and she hit back with surprising force - they took a moment to catch their breath. Some of the previous tension faded away. Enough to take the edge off the awkwardness.

Once composed, the punk's blue orbs zeroed in on gray. "So, uh… this therapist… they any good? I, um, don't really have good experiences with these over-analytical types. Hell, I wouldn't trust 'em as far as I could throw 'em. But… I trust you so… I guess I'm willing to take a chance, if you trust them."

Over the years, she had seen several therapists about her various 'problems'. All of them were patronizing, treating her like a fucking child, less than that. Pretended that they understood when they  _really_ didn't. The only thing they were concerned about was the paycheck. Maybe she'd just been unlucky, but with an already damaged sense of trust… she had shut that avenue down long ago.

The smaller girl nodded, her own gaze going from the blue one it was locked with to a set of hazel orbs. "Completely. Dr. Smith is amazing. Truly, I mean it. Look at Tori, for example. You know how she used to be. A real..." Her voice lowered drastically, " _bitch_..."

For once in her life, Rachel found herself stunned. After a moment, she shook her head. "Kate Marsh... Did you just…?"

The younger girl giggled, shaking her head while rolling her eyes. "I don't know  _what_  you might possibly be talking about."

"Uh huh... You  _hella_  just swore, missy," Chloe piped in from the bed, tutting jokingly at the language. "All that aside though, you are right. She really did used to be a bitch. And she seems... well, not so bitchy now."

Kate nodded in agreement. "Since she started seeing Dr. Smith, among other things, she really has become such a nicer person." The younger girl grinned. "But don't tell her I said that. She still likes to think she can pull off the mean thing sometimes."

The two girls on the bed looked at each other, and then back to the blonde, knowing full well that the girl in question's attitude was miles better than before.

"Deal!"

* * *

_15:33, Friday 1st, November 2013 - The Apartment:_

After their chat with Kate, the mood of the day had lightened considerably. With the nightmare from the morning pushed well back in their minds, and the contact information for this Dr. Smith written down, the duo had gone on to serve breakfast for their gaggle of friends.

The meal had gone fantastically, and afterwards people began to pack up their costumes, with promises to return the clothing they'd been loaned when they got the chance.

Finally, after a number of teary hugs, they made promises to keep in better contact now they all lived near or in Seattle. Chloe and Steph made plans to look into Comic-Con together, and Rachel had set a time for them to meet up with Kate and Victoria at a later date for tea.

Once everyone had left, the model and the punk relaxed on the couch, not even having bothered to put a movie or show on. They absentmindedly scrolled through the feeds on their phones, chuckling occasionally at funny videos of cats.

Their peaceful time was suddenly interrupted by a loud growling sound.

Glancing at the bluenette in her lap, the blonde passed a sly grin. "Hungry?"

" _So_  hungry..."

Gently, she let her fingers tangle in mid-length hair, feeling Chloe relax against her. It almost hurt knowing how much she was loved and loved just as much in return. There were many things they needed to discuss, especially in light of recent developments.

"Well, I know a good place we can go," the hazel-eyed blonde announced.

Chloe took a moment to process that suggestion. "You want to… go  _out_  to eat?"

Having expected the apprehension, she turned to her old friend. "Yeah, why not? It's been… too long. And now we actually  _have_ the money to go somewhere nice. We can't just keep spending it on essentials and not have fun with it."

"I mean... I suppose... I don't know though, crowds?" the punk hesitated, sparing a glance towards her chair, not exactly keen on dealing with people. But for Rachel, she might just deal with the looks she knew she'd get.

"Babe, if you don't want to, we don't have to." The blonde bit the inside of her cheek nervously, hoping that the bluenette would agree to her plan.

"Where did you have in mind?" Despite clearly being nervous, Chloe mustered up enough courage to sound semi-confident in her question.

"That's a secret. Life… needs a little mystery." The words hurt a little now, reminders of a time where they had been less troubled.

At the time, it felt like their problems where crushing, inescapable. Compared to now…

After getting ready, putting on the classier clothes they owned, the pair headed out into the open. They had been out a few times now, mostly just to grab a few things from the store or just get out of the apartment to stop themselves from going crazy.

One time when they had gone for a walk, they had passed a really fancy looking place. Rachel remembered thinking how much havoc they would've caused in a place like that before. Not so much now. They were too tired. It had caught her interest back then. Spending an evening there was the least they deserved.

Before they headed on inside, Rachel took a moment to look at the wheelchair-bound girl. She cleaned up well when she tried. Most days, she didn't even bother brushing her hair or showering. Recently, she had been more inspired to uphold basic personal hygiene standards. Maybe even more so than before  _that_  night.

The model herself had decided to really put in an effort tonight. She caught her reflection in the glass front of the restaurant, and paused for a moment to appreciate the work she'd done. Her hair was hanging straight down with a slight curl at the bottom. From her hairline at her forehead two braids circled around the crown of her head. They met at the back, intertwined down the center. Her blue stud earrings matched the shade of her lover's eyes. She had gone out of her way to draw the most attention to her eyes, with a gold speckled eyeshadow complementing her hazel gaze.

Her dark blue dress flowed down past her knees, pleated around the edge. It came up to a modest neckline with a bow at the small of her back. The heels gained her a few inches, which had earned her a slight ribbing from the bluenette.

When she looked away from the glass, she found herself facing Chloe - who looked absolutely stunned.

"Rach... You look like a  _fuc_...  _freaking_ princess. You're gorgeous, and..." the wheelchair-bound girl grinned and whispered, " _You're all mine!_ "

The blonde giggled softly, a magical sound to Chloe's ears. Realizing what her best friend had been doing, the punk glanced at herself in the mirror-like glass of her own accord.

As she sat there in her chair, she decided that she'd done a pretty decent job of dressing up for what was looking more and more like a formal date. Somewhere in her closet, she'd found a pair of black slacks and converses that looked presentable. This had been coupled with a long sleeve button up shirt matching her hair. She'd done everything she could to straighten her normally tangled locks, tucking them behind her ears. Doing away with her gloves, she favored having her girlfriend push her.

Leaning in beside her, the blonde left a soft kiss on Chloe's cheek. "And you, my dear, look absolutely perfect."

Hearing that helped with the nerves that had been building up since she'd watched the model step out of the bathroom. But even the words sometimes could be unintentionally backhanded.

"I... I'm not perfect, Rach. I'm..." she began, getting suddenly cut off.

"No. Don't even think that way. You are perfect to me, no matter what." The blonde interjected, crouching down in front of the wheelchair, pressing a finger to the punk's lips. "I  _love_  you, because you are here and alive, because you are everything that I want, and I will always remind you of that. I want you to know you're loved, and that you're beautiful, and that I think that - stubborn as you can certainly be - you're the strongest and most amazing person I've ever been lucky enough to meet."

Chloe froze, her blue gaze meeting the hazel one that exuded nothing but pure love. She realized that her cheeks were beginning to heat up, turning bright pink. "I... I love you too, Rach. You don't know how perfect you are yourself..." She knew her reply wasn't half as eloquent as her lover's, but then again, eloquence wasn't  _exactly_  her strong suit.

"Well, thank you." Rachel smiled widely, genuinely happy to hear the punk's thoughts.

There had been very few good things to come of that horrific nightmarish night, the bad  _definitely_ outweighing the good, but it had changed a couple of things for the better. For one, both girls had become more expressive with their emotions, particularly towards one another. That had taken some time, both fearful of getting too invested and losing… well, everything. By this point, they knew they may both be living on borrowed time. As terrifying as that was, there was almost a sense of peace with that knowledge. It meant they now savored every single second, not wanting to waste any time in case…

This was not the time to think about morbid possibilities.

The blonde stepped up to the door and pushed it open, holding it for the wheelchair-bound girl as she rolled in. The head waiter walked up to the stand, pulling up two menus, and giving a slight glance in Chloe's direction. He gave a polite smile, and began. "Table for two?"

Rachel nodded. "Actually, we have a reservation for two, name of Amber." She grinned at her lover, who she could tell was enjoying the fanciness of the whole ordeal.

The waiter looked down at the list of reservations quickly, then glanced back up. "Of course, Miss Amber. Please follow me." He took off, heading through the restaurant towards a booth in its own little alcove.

As they arrived, Chloe glanced suspiciously at the step up involved in getting into the booth, and raised a questioning eyebrow to the woman she loved.

"Let me help you up, milady," the blonde chimed in with a soft curtsey and a giggle, before going to help the taller girl out of her chair.

Since the bluenette had began training to walk more, the process of being moved around had become easier. She was able to make her legs at least do a portion of the lifting, even if it was minimal.

Not that Rachel couldn't handle herself with the gangly punk. God only knew how many times she'd carried the handicapped girl on her own, enough to build up her strength. As she got the girl into her seat, the model moved around to the other side of the table and took her seat.

"What might I get you started with?" the waiter handed them a wine list as well as a menu.

Insistent on taking charge, since she was the one who had organized - well, organized may be too strong a word since it was more of a spontaneous gesture - everything for this night, Rachel went about ordering their food. Chloe let her; the blonde knew what she liked by now. Order placed, the waiter left them to it.

"This place is… fancy, huh?" The bluenette shifted, not feeling like she belonged here.

"Only the best for my girl," Rachel added playfully. "And if anyone in this world deserves to be treated like a queen, it's you."

"Queen of what, though?" Chloe pressed, curious to see how that thought would end.

"Many things." An impish smirk graced her face. "Like my heart."

Rolling her eyes, Chloe felt a slight blush creep onto her cheeks. "Ugh, how can you say that with a straight face."

Reaching across the table, Rachel gathered Chloe's hands in hers. "Because I like making you blush. And it's true."

"Oh yes, please quote more cliche blog posts at me," the blue-haired punk scoffed.

Leaning in closer, Rachel smiled her voice low and husky. "Whatever the lady desires."

"What this lady  _desires_ is…" she faltered, the joke turning to a genuine internal list of things she wanted. For Rachel not to have suffered that night. To be able to walk again and give the blonde everything she deserved. And everything else featured on her bucket list.

"Is…?" her girlfriend prompted softly.

"Is… for you to be happy…" Chloe finished quietly.

Before Rachel could reply, their drinks arrived. She thanked the waiter, watching him leave once more. Then, she turned to the girl sat across from her. "And who's to say I'm not already?"

Chloe sighed, looking away for a moment. "You could be happier." Blue eyes shifted back to hazel. "I  _want_ you to be happier."

The model shook her head softly. "You want to know what makes me happy? When you smile, make dorky jokes, cuddle up close… when you are Chloe Price. And I'm sure it's the same for you with me, right?"

Chloe hesitated momentarily. "Well, yeah."

"Then know that so long as I am with you, I am as happy as I can be." The model reached across the table, taking the punk's hand and squeezing tightly.

The conversation soon turned from the serious to the more casual, as the girls began to gossip somewhat about the previous night.

"So, I can't have been the only one who noticed how much Steph seemed to be into Dana, right?" the blonde giggled, taking a sip of her drink.

"I might've picked up on something..." the bluenette chuckled.

Rachel shook her head. "So perceptive, Sherlock."

"Oh, does that make you Watson?" Chloe playfully retorted, knowing the blonde would not accept that role.

As expected, she scoffed. "Oh puh-lease. As if I'd be a sidekick. If anything, I'd be the Moriarty to your Sherlock."

"Evil mastermind  _does_ suit you well," the punk agreed, swigging her own drink.

Brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, she nodded. "Much better than a lost puppy sidekick, yes. Give me  _some_ credit."

"Well, I'm hardly a straight up hero so…" Chloe shrugged.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Mhm, you can say that again. But that's your charm. Everyone loves the roguish hero type."

"Everyone huh?" Chloe prompted playfully.

"Everyone who matters, that is," the blonde added as an afterthought.

"So, you?" the bluenette pointed out with a smile.

Rachel offered a playful smirk as their order arrived. The two girls dug into their food, the blonde with much more etiquette than her girlfriend. No surprises there. It felt nice to just chill out in a place like this, forget their problems. For a time, they could pretend it was all okay.

"So, enjoying it?" the blonde asked, watching Chloe polish off her food.

The bluenette shrugged, leaning back in her chair. "Food is food, dude."

"That's such a you answer," the blonde chuckled. "Guess we should've just gone for some Burger a la King, huh?"

Chloe cracked a wide smile. "Ha, I really impressed your parents that day."

"To be fair, you weren't the one to totally ruin that night." Thoughts of her father's lies made Rachel frown slightly.

Sensing the sudden shift in her demeanor, Chloe reached across the table to take her hand. "Thanks for all this, Rach. It… means a lot. I know I act all tough and whatever, but I do appreciate it. A lot."

"And I appreciate you entertaining me by getting all dolled up." Chloe had  _actually_ let her put a little makeup on without bitching too much about it.

The punk rolled her eyes. "Well, don't get used to it. This is a  _one_ time thing."

"Sure it is." Rachel was pretty confident that, if she wanted, she could get Chloe to comply again.

Resisting the urge to flip her off, the blue-haired punk watched the waiter clean up their plates. She had never done well in these 'official' kind of settings, where manners and social rules applied. A rebel at heart. Still… for Rachel, she would try and be on her best behavior.

"It's weird not to get countered by you," Rachel chuckled softly. "I suppose that means you're at least  _trying_ to behave."

"Me? Behave? I'm offended." Chloe assumed an expression of mock insult, giving way to a smirk when Rachel gave her a disbelieving look.

Before the blonde could respond, the waiter returned with their earlier made desert orders. Rachel had known Chloe would want something so it made sense to order right then and there along with everything else.

As expected, the punk wasted no time devouring her - what she would consider way too small - slice of chocolate cake. That was the problem with these fancy joints, they sure as hell skimped on the portion size yet charged ten times more for it. Once she had finished, she eyed up the half eaten piece of cheesecake across the table. She was almost like a dog, hanging around for scraps and flashing the practically impossible to resist puppy dog eyes.

Sighing, and pretty full anyway, the blonde shook her head and slide the plate over. "Go on."

Eyes sparkling, Chloe offered a grateful grin that made the desert sacrifice all worth it. As she dug into her second helping, Rachel watched her his soft hazel eyes. It was weird. A few months ago, she'd have never considered this was where they'd be. Slowly recovering - body, mind and soul.

After paying for their meal, much more expensive than they were used to, they began heading home. Even then, the blonde was still deep in thought.

"Rach?" The uncertain call brought her from her musing.

"Hmm? Did you say something?" Rachel asked, hoping she hadn't missed anything important.

Chloe didn't want to dig too deep but... she had to check. "Uh, no you just seemed… distracted."

The modelesque blonde took an unexpected turn into a nearby park and sat down on one of the benches close to where she had parked up Chloe's wheelchair. "Let's stop for a sec."

It was a little chilly and getting dark but it didn't really bother either of them. They were silent for a time, neither wanting to interrupt the other's thoughts. Eventually, Rachel spoke up.

"Chloe…" she paused, at a loss for words. "Shit, words used to be my strong point."

The bluenette reached out to take Rachel's hand in hers. "Not like I can judge."

"I just wanted to say that… I'm glad to be here with you." She  _really_ couldn't say it enough.

"In the middle of a park freezing your ass off?" Chloe asked with her trademark impish smirk.

Hazel eyes narrowed playfully. "Maybe less so now…"

"Nah, you mean it just as much, even with the snark," the bluenette stated.

Rachel turned to her with a slight grin. "My, someone sounds confident… wish I could tell you different."

"And, for what it's worth, I'm glad you're here, too. I'd be a total mess otherwise." Chloe frowned slightly. "Ugh, mushy shit."

The mild disgust made Rachel's grin widen. "Aw, I think it's cute when you get all emotional."

Chloe groaned at her. " _Please_  stop talking."

Starting to feel the cold now, Rachel stood and began pushing Chloe again. She didn't have to, the punk was more than capable of doing it herself, but she wanted to. "Come on, let's get back before we freeze."

Not protesting, Chloe closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh. "Yeah, it's hella cold out here."

The blonde giggled softly at the use of the word they'd surely abused more than they should've, and put one hand on her lover's shoulder as they made their way out.

Life, finally, was playing fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> *6100 words... I could not give enough credit to Liv/NothingYouCanProve for the sheer volume of work and time she's put into this. Honestly, without her, this wouldn't have ever gotten this far. She's been the one to come kick my ass when I start slumping away from writing to tell me to get back into it. She's been the one to hear all my crazy theories and concepts for how to go about this story. Thank you, Liv, so damned much, for everything you do for this story. I really couldn't do it without you. 3
> 
> Now, in other news... Nope. This isn't anywhere near the end. There's a lot more planned for these girls, and it's all coming down the pipe as we go, so stay tuned, and keep on reading. Thank you to all of you who faithfully read through these adventures of Chloe and Rachel.*
> 
> -TjwCroft/Tom
> 
> Well, finally got around to finishing this one. Hella yes! It's always a pleasure to write with Tom, so I look forward to the next chapter. Hopefully, it'll be out quicker *fingers crossed*. Catch you on the flip side.
> 
> NYCP


	9. Do something crazy|Do something crazy

**Do something crazy|Do something crazy**

_08:59, Monday 11th, November 2013 - Dr Smith’s Office:_

For what must have been the hundredth time - not that much of an exaggeration unfortunately - Chloe decided to start counting the number of tiles in the ceiling of the waiting room.

The first twenty times, she’d counted 48.  
  
Then she started to include the partial tiles and add them together to make full tiles.

She’d gotten to 52 and a quarter.

So she started dividing them into quarter tiles to get a bigger number. She made it through the first three tiles when the secretary looked up at them. About time, too. Any longer and she may have actually died of boredom.

“Miss Amber, Miss Price?” the young woman at the desk - she couldn’t have been much older than the girls were - stood up, holding out a clipboard with pre-filled insurance paperwork. “Dr. Smith will see you now. It’s the third door on the left down the hall. Just go ahead and knock, she’ll let you in.”

Unlike Chloe, Rachel had spent her time doing something a little more productive. Some might not agree, though. For the past half an hour, she’d been browsing through some articles and stories on her phone. When the secretary called out to them, she had been reading a particularly lewd section. While she knew there was no way anyone would know, she couldn’t help but feel awkward about it.

Doing her best to shrug off the slight blush coloring her cheeks, the blonde coughed softly and stood, taking the clipboard from the other woman.

“Thank you.” The model smiled charmingly as her fingers gripped the wooden board with such a death grip that her knuckles turned white.

Despite her smile, she was more than a little apprehensive about this. It was one thing planning to do this, another actually _doing_ it. Did she really want someone poking around in their personal lives? Dragging up shit they’d both rather forget?

Too late to ask that now.

The blonde headed back to the space where Chloe had parked her wheelchair. She grabbed hold of the handles, beginning to push the daydreaming bluenette - who incidentally found herself rudely brought back to reality - towards the hallway they’d been directed down.

When they reached the door that the secretary had mentioned, the model froze for just a moment, unsure if she was ready to face their demons.

Then she felt a gloved hand take her own, holding on tightly.  
  
“Babe, whatever happens, whatever you or I say in there, I love you, and that’s not going to change. I am not leaving you behind, I promise.” The punk who, months earlier wouldn’t have said anything of this sort, had truly grown into a genuinely supportive and wholesome woman.  
  
“I... I know... I love you too.” The blonde paused just another moment. “Ready?”

Upon receiving a short nod and a squeeze to her hand, Rachel knocked on the door in front of them, then waited for a response.

And waited.

Casting a confused glance down to the girl beside her, the hazel-eyed blonde went to knock on the door again, wondering if she’d knocked too softly before. As her knuckles were about to meet the wood of the door it suddenly swung open, allowing Rachel’s hand to find its mark on the shoulder of a woman.

She must have been in her late twenties to early thirties. Petite, brunette, with unforgettably blue eyes. A light smattering of freckles peppered her pale skin like constellations.

Rachel frowned, very confused by the woman. When she turned to Chloe, the poor girl was completely frozen to the spot. Like she’d seen a ghost.

The older woman smiled, warm and a little awkward glancing between them. “I’m guessing you must be Ms. Price and Ms. Amber. I’m Doctor Jacqueline Smith. Feel free to call me whatever you want. Well, within reason.” She managed a soft chuckle, stepping aside to let them in. “Come in.”

Breaking free of her daze, the bluenette pushed herself forward, into the room, with her girlfriend taking a seat beside the desk in the office.  
  
The room itself wasn’t anything to write home about. The desk in the middle of the room looked as if it’d been salvaged from an old school, and from half a century earlier. As for the walls, they were mostly covered in generic posters about self-harm and depression, with the exception of the set of four framed degrees on the wall.

When prompted, the blonde sat down and Chloe moved her wheelchair in front of the desk. Dr. Smith followed them, taking up position in her own chair. After shuffling a few papers to one side, she steepled her hands.

“So, what brings you here today?” the older woman asked with an almost familiar curiosity for the blue-haired punk.

Rachel glanced over at Chloe, noting the tension in her shoulders. “A friend recommended you.”

Blue eyes widened slightly. “Oh? Guess I did a decent enough job then. I realize this can be quite… awkward. Telling a total stranger about all the messed up shit in your life. We can do this whichever way you like, pretend I’m not here if that’s easier. Or imagine me as someone you trust.”

Chloe swallowed hard, not sure what to do. Part of her wanted to run. Forget. Not that she could do either…

Noting her reluctance, Rachel took a deep breath. “A lot has happened in the past few months. Left a lot of scars. Some of them more visible than others.”

With one hand, she wiped away some of the make up on her face, exposing one of the marks. Her other clamped onto the wheelchair frame.

“You probably heard about the incident in Arcadia Bay earlier this year... where a teacher and student were caught... attacking two other students...” Rachel paused, watching the doctor for a reaction.

To her credit, the brunette across the desk didn’t flinch or gasp, in fact, her eyes didn’t even widen. Instead, she nodded softly. “Am I to presume, then, that you would be Miss Rachel Amber and Miss Chloe Price, the students who were attacked?”

The wheelchair-bound punk raised an eyebrow, somewhat stunned at the directness and lack of outward reaction from the woman before them. “Uh... yes. That would be us. How much do you know about the whole... the whole thing?” Chloe gulped softly, feeling unexpectedly comfortable with the stunningly calm demeanor they’d been met with.

Jacqueline leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk while supporting her chin. “Miss Price, Miss Amber, or may I call you Chloe and Rachel?” the girls nodded, “If I may, perhaps it might do more good if you told me from your side what I should know.”

Both girls glanced at each other, and smiled awkwardly before turning back to the doctor.

“Uhm... That’s kinda why we’re here... We’ve come to find that neither of us is all that great at opening up about what happened that night...” the model spoke up, beginning to elaborate. “At this point, we’ve both got so much to think about, between the memories and the nightmares... It’s sometimes hard to tell what’s what...”

From behind the desk, the freckled woman nodded, bringing her hands away from her face. “I can only imagine what those nightmares might encompass.” She took a deep breath. “I suppose, perhaps, the best place to start would be to ask which of you would feel more comfortable trying to start. There are no failures, there is no shame in not being able to open up right now. It can take a very long time to even want to open up about trauma, and what the two of you went through... I’m frankly impressed that you’re here so soon after the fact. It shows me that you both have hope, hope that one day you’ll be able to move past the horrid events of your past.”

The bluenette decided to speak up. “I think... part of the problem is that there’s been so much more since then to just add onto the crap...” A lone tear seemed to form in the corner of Chloe’s eye. “Since that night... we’ve found that Rachel developed aneurysms, I can’t walk and we found out that my...” She stumbled over her words, not sure if she could manage to say the last bit of their troubles.

Resting a hand on the shoulder of the woman that meant the world to her, Rachel took over. “Her childhood best friend, a girl named Max, died the day after everything happened... as she was driving to come see Chloe...”

Finally, the slightest bit of a shift came from Jacqueline’s demeanor.

Or it had seemed so.

Maybe Rachel was seeing things.

After a few moments, the brunette nodded somberly. “What you’ve been through, it may as well be hell. But you’re both here. You’ve both survived that hell and as far as I can tell, you’re on the road to recovery.” She paused, looking at each of her patients in turn, as if evaluating which of them to start on.  
  
Turning to Rachel, she nodded.

“Rachel, I feel as though you might be the one who has opened up some already. Would you, perhaps, be willing to start? To help Chloe feel comfortable enough to share her story in time? We don’t need to go through everything today - we have time - and I’d like to meet weekly if that’s okay with the both of you, but just go to the point that you feel you can handle.”

The blonde could feel the familiar sensation of fear creep up her spine. Her throat went dry, memories she tried so desperately to suppress oozing from their mental prison. It was insane how something that happened months ago, people who were long since gone could still have such a hold over her. Honestly, she _hated_ it. But it just wasn’t as easy as flipping a switch and moving on.

Would telling someone even help? What could anyone do for her at this stage?

Then, she felt a warmth on her hand. Only after did she realize how tightly she had been gripping onto Chloe’s wheelchair and the obvious shake. Maybe it would be pointless in the end. But if she never tried…

Taking a deep breath, Rachel closed her eyes and let the nightmarish blurred mental images filter through. Slowly but surely, they started to take form. A swirling mass of… pain. Terror.

“I don’t remember all of it. Honestly, some parts are… blurry,” she began, already noticing the tremble in her own voice.

It made her feel so pathetic.

Not once did the older woman interrupt. She sat there quietly, patient. No barrage of intrusive questions. Letting Rachel lead the conversation, controlling and dictating what she was comfortable with.

“I remember… going to the party with Chloe. Just to unwind, you know.” Her words quivered, not even close to the traumatizing part of her story. “Nothing unusual. And then… I started to feel dizzy. Next thing I knew…” She hesitated, the words so difficult to speak aloud.

Chloe’s hand tightened around her girlfriend’s, both for support and her own reassurance. This would be tough for both of them.

Squeezing back, Rachel steadied her resolve and continued in a much softer voice. “I woke up and saw Chloe. And… Nathan.”

That name shook her to the very core, recalling his twisted expression of glee as he…

“Rachel?” The gentle sound of her name brought her back.

Hazel eyes met blue, calm and reassuring. It was the first time Doctor Smith had spoken since she started explaining the events of that night.

“I…” As much as she wanted to say she was okay, she wasn’t. “Sorry, got lost in thought.”

“No need to be sorry.” Giving a gentle smile, the older woman leaned back in her chair. “I can see this is… difficult for you. My advice, don’t force it. That helps nobody. Least of all yourself.”

Taking a shaking breath, the blonde nodded. “Yeah… I might have to stop now.”

Doctor Smith simply nodded, shifting her attention over to Chloe. The wheelchair-bound girl tensed, not sure whether she was ready for this. Rachel had tried. So the very least she could do was that.

“I, uh… probably remember a little more than Rach. Of the start, at least,” the blue-haired punk managed. “As she already said, we went to the party. Rachel suddenly started acting really… strange. Before I could help her, I felt so drowsy.”

At first, she thought they had just drunk and smoke a little too much. Unfortunately… not the case.

“I… woke up a little before her in… that place.” Starting to lose the strength in her voice, Chloe exhaled shakily. “I can’t remember much about the details, but… white walls, bright flashes, taunting voices…”

Instinctively, she curled in on herself as she recalled the pain and fear. Wondering just what would happen to Rachel once she lost consciousness. The thought still terrified her. Made her sick to the stomach.

However, it wasn’t so much that she didn’t remember what had happened... Truly, she simply didn’t _want_ to remember. The memories hurt, she knew that. But at the same time, for all the times that she had woken in the middle of the night, a scream on her lips and sweat drenching her sheets, she knew that the memories wouldn’t go away. Not soon, at the very least.

The bluenette paused, realizing that her free hand was shaking and tears were threatening to spill down her cheeks. She felt a squeeze from the blonde angel who sat next to her and felt herself begin to relax. However, she knew well that she couldn’t handle going into more details.

“I... I don’t think that I can go on right now...” she sniffed loudly, taking a deep breath and looking up at the brunette sitting across the desk from her.

The older woman simply nodded, not pressing for more information. “You both did well today. I’ve had sessions where people don’t say a word. Or get… aggressively defensive about it. Not that they can be blamed. It won’t change overnight. Things like this need work. Lots of it. Most of it is coming to terms with the past and learning to manage the feelings attached to the memories, which isn’t easy.”

“You’re telling me,” Chloe muttered, worried about Rachel.

The blonde hadn’t said a single word yet. Unusual. She was normally the more chatty of them. Chloe was certain that Rachel had been neglecting her own pain. It was easier to do that. While the punk appreciated the support… her girlfriend needed just as much. Rachel was used to hiding her real feelings away, pretending everything was okay. Keeping up appearances.

That shit got tiring. Quickly. Even she could only take so much.

Also picking up on Rachel’s behavior, Dr. Smith’s expression softened. “One day, we’ll get the balance right. Not forgetting but… not remembering constantly.”

“You sound so… confident,” Rachel finally managed. “Why? How can you sound so convinced?”

To that, Dr. Smith answered with a sad smile. “Honestly, I don’t know either. Sometimes, those gut instincts don’t need reasons.” She moved to sit back into her chair before continuing. “Experience... has taught me to trust them, however. Sometimes, it’s the difference in saving someone’s life.”

The blonde’s gaze met the brunette’s, and held it. Something in the tone the doctor had used resonated deeply with her. “I suppose I hadn’t thought of it that way. I can’t necessarily speak for Chloe in this, but I haven’t gotten to the point where I’ve wanted to do anything... rash... but I can only imagine that some might, given their circumstances.”

Not wanting to answer for herself right now, Chloe changed the subject. “So, I guess this is the time we get kicked out, huh?”

An amused smile tugged at Dr. Smith’s lips. “Well, if you want to stay here, feel free. I’m not stopping you. I’m sure you’d like to get as far away from here and me as possible, though. Don’t worry, I don’t take it personally.” She paused, the smile never wavering. “Or maybe I should…”

“You haven’t done anything to piss me off yet, so you’re good,” Chloe replied.

Dr. Smith was nice and all, but she _really_ wanted to get home.

The blonde let out a soft chuckle at her girlfriend’s response. “Take it from me, Doc, if she was really upset, you’d know, I’d know, the whole office would know.”

Just for reassurance, she squeezed the bluenette’s hand again, this time holding tight. In part to remind herself that Chloe was there, was alive, and wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

The doctor’s smile widened a fraction, as she looked at the walls. “Good thing I had the walls soundproofed then.” Looking directly at Chloe, she nodded, “You wouldn’t be the first person to be let’s say, explosive, in their expression of their pain. But don’t let me hold you up. I’m never going to pressure you into anything you’re uncomfortable with, and I’m certainly not going to hold you against your will.”

She ran her fingers through mid-length brown hair, seeming deeply pensive. Both Chloe and Rachel wondered what she was thinking. Maybe a little paranoid. After spending so long hiding it all - from other people _and_ themselves - they couldn’t help that way of thinking.

“If you feel like you’ve reached a point that you can’t go past today, then there’s no point in us all sitting here in silence and staring at each other awkwardly. I think you’ve both shown that you’re willing to push to heal, but you shouldn’t push too far or too fast. It can lead to... disagreeable outcomes.” The brunette pushed back her chair, and stood up, walking around the desk towards the girls.

Both of them relaxed a little, out of the spotlight. While it hadn’t been as awful as expected, they were glad it was over for today. There was only so much they could handle in one go. It would only get harder from here. But it would also be easier. In time, they both knew that the more they opened up and got off of their chests, the less things might haunt them in the night.

“Chloe, Rachel, it’s been a true pleasure meeting the both of you. I hope that with time we can make some serious progress, for the both of you to rest easier. Would you feel comfortable with doing this once a week?”

The model glanced over to the wheelchair-bound punk, and raised a questioning eyebrow. She felt it could be better to let Chloe make the decisions when it came to these things.

Seeing the invitation to make the choice in the matter, the bluenette fixed her gaze on the set of blue eyes that felt so incredibly familiar, yet so different.

“I think we could do Wednesday next week, if that works with you, doc.“

“Wednesday at two would work perfectly for me,” Jacqueline countered warmly, apparently certain of her calendar without even looking at it. “If that’s all then, I’ll see you next week.” She smiled, walking to the door and opening it for the girls.

Rachel stood up, keeping hold of the chair for just a few moments to be sure she’d stand firmly, given how shaky she herself had felt earlier. Once she was sure, she moved behind her girlfriend, taking hold of the wheelchair handles and moving towards the door. Both girls smiled politely, saying their goodbyes as they left the room, hearing the brunette close the door behind them.

All the way back to the SUV they were mostly quiet, making only a few comments about how nice the day was or how unseasonably warm it was for the beginning of November. It wasn’t until they got into the vehicle that Chloe decided to speak up about something on her mind that kept bugging her.

“I swear to god... if I didn’t know any better, and you know I’m not saying this lightly, but I honestly thought I’d come face to face with Max...” the bluenette huffed loudly.

“Fuck...”

* * *

_19:25, Tuesday 24th, December 2013 - The Apartment:_

Rachel looked over their apartment from the hallway, her hazel gaze resting on the tree that stood behind their couch. It wasn’t the most ornate nor the most well decorated and it certainly wasn’t huge, but it was _theirs_. To the model, that meant so much more than some super-fancy tree.

Next, her eyes drifted over to the tall box sat beside it. She’d worked hard to keep its content hidden, a difficult task around Chloe Price. Wrapping it was even less fun, moving it the cherry on top of an altogether awkward yet worthwhile endeavor. Hopefully, this particular present would change that.

“Beep beep!” Her girlfriend’s voice came from behind, startling the blonde from her pensiveness. “Penny for your thoughts, babe?” the bluenette asked, a wide smile on her lips.

On her lap was a stack of smaller boxes, ranging from the size of a shoebox to something not much larger than a fist.

Rachel raised an intrigued eyebrow, plucking the smallest box from her lover’s lap. “How about a penny for yours?” She brought the box to her eye level, squinting. “Something you wanna ask?”

The wheelchair-bound girl grumbled under her breath, snatching the box away and carrying everything to the tree, setting it all down for the next morning.

“If you must know, you’ll just have to wait till tomorrow,” she replied, sticking out her tongue.

Giggling softly, Rachel approached her and crouched down. “Good thing I like surprises, huh?” No hesitation, she planted a kiss on Chloe’s lips. Soft and sweet. “And that I love you enough to not pester you about it too much.”

The punk sighed contently, recalling the past two months. Every week - with the exception of Thanksgiving - they’d visited the enigmatic Dr. Smith in a bid to banish their numerous and relentless demons.

Progress had been slow for the most part. The events of that night had remained vague at best. Too soon to recount in any considerable detail. Instead, they had focused on keeping the nightmares at bay and dealing with the stress accompanying their hellish past.

If Chloe was honest, the burden on her mind, heart and soul had lessened. Her world so much brighter and alive. Not dull and distant like the first few months. Smiles and laughter came easier to them both, replacing the stagnant state of depression. Her outlook on life was generally more positive, the negatives pushed to the background.

But most of all, she noticed Rachel.

Despite her flaws, the beautiful blonde woman was the only reason Chloe didn’t just give up. Her encouragement to get out of bed in the morning and fight to live another day. Now, that reason held new meaning. A bridge to future hopes, not a shackle to past fears. The one thing that truly caught her off guard was a small change. So subtle, it’d taken her a while to realize it.

The day she stopped comparing Rachel to Max.

Max had occupied her thoughts for years, ever since she left for Seattle. Even on the day Chloe met the stunning and magnificent blonde who would change her life forever. Inevitable. A few weeks ago, she noticed that the only comparison she made now were of others based on Rachel.

Initially, that realization had depressed the fuck out of her. Worried that she was starting to forget Max. Just like with her dad. After years without him, she had to piece together the scraps of her memory to recall what he looked and sounded like without relying on pictures or videos. Whenever she forgot even the smallest detail even for a second - the way his face crinkled when he smiled; which shade of blue his eyes were, similar but not identical to her own; his infectious laughter - she felt guilty.

When she worked up the courage to bring it up in therapy, Jacqueline had offered a different perspective. Rather than forgetting, she was learning to accept the loss. To live with reality, not just surviving until she couldn’t take the pain anymore.

Not that it had all been doom and gloom. The highlight of the season so far had been the small Thanksgiving gathering hosted in their apartment. Joyce and David had come up from Arcadia. Neither Chloe nor Rachel could stomach returning to the sleepy town.

Not yet.

For whatever reason - her time away from David or the incident itself - Chloe and her step father seemed to have reached a mutual understanding. The once hostile environment evaporated in favor of civil conversation. They would never see eye to eye on a lot of things, but there was no need or desire to be at each other’s throats.

Embracing the phrase ‘the more the merrier’, they had invited Kate and Victoria to their family gathering. The two blondes had jumped at the prospect of good food and company, offering to bring several dishes themselves.

Joyce had really outdone herself with the meal. It had been a while since she had cooked for a larger group of people like this and took it all in her stride. Everyone pitched in with the preparation, even Chloe who before would’ve skillfully dodged any of the hard work. Between them, they made light work and soon had a table laden with food.

Compared to past Thanksgiving meals hosted at the Price house, this year had been fairly uneventful, aka not ending in total chaos. At most, there had been some playful jabs at others’ expense. Nearly all instigated by Chloe and aimed at either Victoria or David. Unlike before, her two main antagonists for years didn’t take it personally.

Honestly, they were all just glad to see the blue-haired punk joke around. Almost back to her old self, but not quite. Less bitter and jaded.

To everyone’s surprise, Kate had gotten more than a little drunk that evening. No doubt feeling comfortable with them all. David seemed the most shocked by the transformation - she had always been so quiet and reserved at school - not commenting. His days of excessive policing were behind him.

When Kate started stating all the rather embarrassing reasons why she loved Victoria, the taller blonde practically dragged her to bed. They had made a cozy nest beforehand, ready for another sleepover.

Chloe and Rachel had stayed up a little longer. After seeing Joyce and David to the guest room - aka Chloe’s old room - they found themselves in each other’s arms, discussing the events of the day and gossiping. Mostly about the budding relationship Kate and Victoria. The norm these days.

To say Thanksgiving had gone well was an understatement.

Fading back to the present, the bluenette reciprocated Rachel’s affection. Her hand tangled in a golden mane, deepening the kiss. To her surprise, she was met with more passion than expected.

When they finally broke apart for air, both girls were flushed. Their cheeks had taken on a shade of bright pink. Kind and loving hazel orbs met adoring blue ones, fixated. Neither set faltered. Seconds passed, then minutes. Silent until Chloe finally spoke up, slightly diffusing the intensity.

“Rachel. I’m not going to push you for anything you’re not ready for, much less something I’m not really ready for myself, but I want you to know...” A chuckle slipped from her lips, replaced soon with a grin as her hand slowly came back down to her chair, allowing Rachel to stand up. “That I definitely want you - all of you - when we’re both ready.”

The blonde tutted playfully, deciding to put on a little act inspired by some of the period pieces they’d been watching on Netflix recently. “Chloe! How could you say such a thing to an innocent young maiden such as myself?!” She raised her hand to her mouth with a mock gasp of indignant shock. “Surely you must know such things are talk of sinners!”

Her voice had shifted to the best british accent she could muster but soon broke into a fit of giggles, unable to keep up the charade in the face of Chloe’s faux-serious expression.

“Let me bed you then, wench. I’ll make a woman out of you!” came a pirate-themed reply, earning more laughter - a truly magical sound coming from the true actress - as the two girls made their way to their room for the night.

The morning couldn’t come soon enough.

* * *

_09:07, Wednesday 25th, December 2013 - The Apartment:_

Both girls woke to the sound of their phone ringtones. Rachel’s played an upbeat pop song, Chloe’s a darker rock tune - one that had helped her through tough times. Grumbling loudly at the interruption from once peaceful sleep, they fumbled around and grabbed their phones.

The bluenette’s call came from her mom.

The blonde’s from her dad.

“Hey Mom. Merry Christmas,” Chloe answered, still groggy.

“Hi Dad!” Rachel put the phone up to her ear, unnaturally cheery for having just woken up. “Merry Christmas to you too!”

Both girls slowly turned themselves, joints popping and bed creaking as they sat up, reaching around to find shirts and pants.  
  
“How’s Mom? I definitely am missing her Christmas dinners.” The model turned to look at her girlfriend, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Rachel’s relationship with her father never improved since she found out about Sera all those years ago. They simply got better at faking it for Rose’s sake.

“Is David doing okay?” Chloe’s concern for her stepfather garnered a raised eyebrow.

In the months since the incident, she’d seen the bluenette grow increasingly more accepting of the man that her mother had married. It seemed that having come so close to death, combined with the fact that David had been the one to save them in the end, had made an impression that couldn’t be ignored.

“I meant to say thank you, by the way, for the presents you sent,” Rachel mentioned, quickly following up, “We haven’t opened them yet. We actually just woke up.”

Both girls made their way - once Chloe was in her chair - towards the kitchen, still on their phones.

“Yes mom, we’re up. We actually just woke up when you called, actually.”

The wheelchair-bound girl opened the fridge, pulling out the orange juice and the milk, while the model - angelic even in this just awoken state - reached into a higher cabinet and pulled out the cereal boxes each girl liked best.

“Yes Mom... I promise, Mom. I promise I’ll call you next week.”

“Yes Dad. Tell Mom I said I love her.”

“Love you too, Mom. Tell David I said Hi.”

“Bye Dad.”

“Bye Mom.”

Both girls finally put their phones down, hanging up on the calls. Their separate gazes met, a slight twinkle in their eyes.

Then they both broke into laughter.

“I can’t believe...” the punk gasped for breath between fits of laughter, “that they both called at the same time!”

“Well, good morning to you too, love,” the blonde giggled, reaching out across the table to take her girlfriend’s hand. “Did you sleep well?”

Finally sitting up straight, a grin still on her face. “I slept pretty decently. Though someone...” The bluenette put a mock angry face on, glaring playfully. “Someone kept hogging the blankets.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Hazel eyes glinted mischievously, hinting at a playfulness that was refreshing to see.

The punk leveled an accusing finger at her partner. “That’s what they all say… won’t hold up in court.”

“Good luck trying to find a judge willing to try that case. Seems like more of a Jerry Springer episode to me.” Taking her hands back and crossing her arms, the model looked away, pretending to be offended.

“Because either of us are actually trashy enough to go on Jerry Springer.” Chloe rolled her eyes, remembering when some plebian of Arcadia had managed to get on the reality show, only to find it to be scripted. Realizing that there was no winning the discussion with her counterpart, the wheelchair-bound girl huffed, picking up a box of cereal and pouring it into the bowl in front of her. “Fine... You win...”

After both girls had gone through their breakfast, with minimal conversation taking place as they were still mostly asleep. When they finally finished their meals, the blonde took their dishes and set them in the sink, turning back to the punk.

“So, I think we can leave the presents for next year, don’t you think?” The joking tone the model had used appeared to go entirely over her partner’s head, as she was met with a much more legitimate glare - one that could’ve killed under other circumstances.

“Or maybe we can do them now.”

The girls made their way to the living room. Chloe opted to stay in her chair to move around and bring presents up, letting Rachel relax on the couch.

“So, who should start? And do you want to start with stuff from family first?” the punk questioned.

“I think family first would be good. We can save the best ones for last then,” the blonde smiled, watching the bluenette roll over to the pile of presents that had been labeled as from their respective parents.

From her own, Rachel had received a few books on Shakespeare and guides to launching an acting career. From Joyce and David she’d received a sweater that had printed across it “World’s best daughter.” Raising a curious eyebrow, the blonde held up the sweater to show Chloe, who turned a bright pink all of a sudden.

“Am I missing some crucial piece of information here?” she asked, wondering if perhaps Chloe’s parents had accidentally labeled the presents incorrectly.

Chloe went on to open her own presents, ignoring the pointed question to find a set of Sherry glasses from Rachel’s parents. That elicited a snort and laugh all at once as she recalled the insane night that she’d first met the blonde’s eccentric family. Her mom had sent something somewhat larger, which left her confused. Upon opening it, the confusion only increased as she found herself staring at what could only be cat care supplies, accompanied by a note.

_Dear Chloe and Rachel,_

_When we were last at your place, we absolutely loved the_

_atmosphere of it, but felt that it might be missing just a little_

_bit more life. So, here’s a little inspiration on what might bring_

_you both immense amounts of happiness._

_Love,_

_Joyce and David_

The girls looked at each other, then back at the supplies, and back at each other again.

“Well, I guess we’re getting a cat then...”

It had been a _long_ time since Chloe had a pet. Ever since Bongo died, run over by a car, she hadn’t really wanted any more. Especially after the rest of that year’s tragedies. Still, she did miss it. A lot.

“I… guess so,” she replied, allowing a slight smile to tug at her lips. “Shit, it’s been a while.”

“Well, I’ve never actually had a pet,” the blonde admitted. “So, I’ll be relying on you at first.”

“Relying on me to take care of something…” Chloe’s mind wandered back to three years ago. The poor plant in her room. One she had poured soda on in a pathetic attempt to revive it. “Right, because that’s gonna work out well.”

Rachel shook her head. “It’ll work out fine, Price. Trust me.”

The bluenette did trust her… enough to suspend her own belief for now. “Okay, okay. You’ve twisted my arm. But my only condition: we get one from a pet shelter.”

“Well duh,” Rachel smiled cheekily. “That’s the only kind of pet that would fit in here.”

“I feel like that’s a subtle dig at me somehow…” Chloe narrowed her eyes.

“It wasn’t meant as a bad thing.” The blonde took a deep breath. “We’ve both had it… rough so it only makes sense to give whatever pet we choose another chance. A better chance. And besides, I rely on you, and you do a fantastic job of taking care of me. I’m sure I’m more work than a cat.”

Glancing back up at the hazel-eyed angel, the punk sighed, accepting her fate. “You do have a point. And you are a pain in the ass to take care of.” She finished her statement by sticking out her tongue, which prompted the blonde to lean forward and kiss her.

When they stopped, the girls looked back at the small pile of remaining unopened presents. Standing up, Rachel moved over to the massive box she’d had to lug around the apartment in secret. She pulled it out far enough to give the wheelchair-bound bluenette access to all sides.

Once moved, she stood back, giving a small bow and giggling. “You first.”

The punk raised an intrigued eyebrow, not at all sure of what the gift could possibly be. Maybe her mom had suggested the whole cat thing to Rachel in private and this was a cat tree? She began to tear at the wrapping paper, finding instead a wooden crate beneath. All of the shipping labels appeared to have been ripped off, giving her no indication of the contents. The crate did however present one problem.

“Hey babe, it’s great you got me a box and all but... how exactly am I supposed to open i-” Her sentence was interrupted by a crowbar being set in her lap and the blonde stepping back away. “Oh, well, that works.”

Wedging the edge of the bar into the space between the front and the rest of the crate, she shoved using her full weight and her months’ worth of highly developed upper body strength.

As the front swung open, a distinct gasp escaped the lips of the handicapped girl.

“Rach... I thought... I thought this thing wasn’t ready for another couple of months!”

Inside the crate was the mechanism that Ryan had detailed months prior, when the prospect of walking again had been brought up. It would reach up to her waist and would encase her legs, allowing more autonomy than she had garnered on her own in the last nine months.  
  
Rolling aside, she let Rachel slide the device out of the crate so that they might get it onto the punk.

“I talked to Ryan and he said that it was ready ahead of time. I figured there probably wasn’t much better of a gift that I could give you than the chance to walk as normally as possible again.”

The blonde turned away, hiding her tears of joy. It was all too much, knowing that in moments she would witness a true miracle. Chloe Price - the woman who meant the most to her in all the world - able to walk again.

Chloe shifted herself out of her chair and onto the couch, making it easier to slide the mechanism on, while Rachel brought it over, sitting it down onto the couch beside the bluenette. She then reached over, taking hold of her girlfriend’s upper body, and lifting her up, while Chloe held onto her legs to keep them from snagging. Between both of their efforts, the punk found herself sitting in the contraption, while she tightened down some of the straps to keep herself from sliding out of it.

When they were both sure that everything was as tight as safely possible - which had included a quick check of the included manual - the blonde stepped back, giving Chloe the space she needed to attempt to stand up.

“Well, here goes nothing.” The bluenette put her hands out to either side of herself and pushed up, not having expected the system to spring forward somewhat to assist with standing up.

“Oh, fuck!”

The cry was less of alarm, more of excitement as she balanced herself out, standing mostly of her own power for the first time since that night. Chloe took a tentative step, reaching out with her left leg. As she moved forward, the frame provided a decent bit of support and balance.

Looking back with tears of her own in her eyes at the blonde, she decided to make use of her regained abilities. Wasting little time, she closed the gap herself, lunging into her girlfriend and embracing her as tightly as she could while they melted into a long, passionate kiss.

When they finally broke for air, the bluenette left one more kiss on the blonde’s forehead, whispering softly. “I love you, Rachel. More than I can ever put into words. I can never thank you enough for what you’ve given me. It’s not just the mechanism, but it’s been the support and love that has never faltered. Not once since this whole mess started. I have never needed you more, and you’ve never been there for me more.” The girls separated slightly and Chloe glanced over at the pile of presents. “Can you do me one favor? Go grab that little box off the top of your pile.”

The way Chloe said that coupled with the box her eyes were currently fixed on made her freeze. When she finally shook herself back to reality, her body moved of its own accord towards the pile. Picking up the small box, she walked back over to Chloe and handed it over. The punk took it, making light work of the wrapping paper.

“Chloe what are you…?” Her question was cut short.

As the bluenette dropped suddenly to one knee.

“Rachel Dawn Amber. You have stood by my side since the day I met you. You have walked through hell and back with me, and you make my every waking moment worth living. I know that we haven’t been dating for very long, but I feel like our friendship transcends what’s normal. Goes beyond just friendship. I have loved you since the day I met you... and I don’t think it’s possible for me to ever stop loving you. So, I will ask you this one question.”

Rachel’s hands went to cover her mouth. She was utterly speechless. Stuck somewhere between wanting to cry and to laugh or just to scream in joy. Tears streamed freely down her face, such a raw flow of emotion running through her.

“Will you marry me, Rachel?” Chloe finished, opening the small box to reveal a ring.

The white gold band was modest, yet perfect. It held the central light-blue diamond firmly between a set of vibrant rubies, with what looked like olive branches etched into the metal.

“Yes. Yes! Oh Chloe, absolutely yes!” The once actress wasn’t giving a show this time. This was real. This was as true as could possibly be. “I love you too, Chloe Elizabeth Price, and I never, ever want to lose you. I would like nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.”

She kneeled down as well, wrapping her arms around the bluenette, lips crashing together over and over. When she finally stood up, Chloe took her hand. Having removed the ring from the box, she slid the ring onto her finger, letting it settle perfectly in place.

Which made the sudden sound of the door buzzer that much more of a shock to the both of them.

“Oh come on! Who interrupts Christmas morning?!” the bluenette grumbled, going to stand up and finding a slight problem. It seemed that something had locked into place when she’d gone to kneel, keeping her stuck. “Uh, babe? A hand please?”

Rachel got back down to look for a latch of some sort, but the buzzer went off again. Impatient.

Looking back towards the doorway, she sighed loudly. “Hang on babe, let me get the door real quick, I’ll be back to help in just a second.”

Standing up, the blonde kept looking back towards the living room, chuckling softly at the curses coming from the punk still trying to unlock whatever had gotten stuck. She glanced down at her ring as she opened the door, not bothering for a moment to look at who it was.

“Yes? What can I possibly do for…?” Her words caught in her throat as she finally looked up, immediately recognizing the person standing on the other side of the door.

From behind her in the living room Chloe called out, still unable to move. “Babe, who is it? Someone we know?”

The question however wasn’t answered, in favor of a different question being asked of the newcomer.

“Mom?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Dun dun dunnnnn*
> 
> -TjwCroft/Tom
> 
> *And got there, phew. Next one should be an interesting one...*
> 
> -NYCP


	10. Wait, What?|Uh oh...

~~**Wait, What?|Uh oh...** ~~

_10:43, Wednesday 25th, December 2013 - The Apartment:_

“Mom?”

The word came out on instinct. Hesitant but… said. Rachel didn’t know the platinum-haired woman stood in front of her. Never seen her before today. She didn’t have to. Deep down, she _knew_ who this stranger was. Beyond a shadow of a doubt.

The woman in front of her was Sera... her birth mother.

“Rachel.” There was a certain aloofness to Sera’s tone, though it felt more like anxiousness than a genuine disinterest.

All things considered, what did you say to your daughter who you haven’t seen in almost 19 years?

How did you even begin that conversation?

Still stunned, Rachel stepped aside to let her in. “Please, come in. Merry Christmas.”

Her mind went on autopilot, trying to rationalize this frankly bizarre encounter. She didn’t even know what to say or how to react. What expression should she be wearing now? How should she feel?

 _Nervous_ was the first to rear its head.

After all this time, all the questions, risks and… lies, her mom was just… there. Like she had come down for a weekly visit or something. Except it sure as _hell_ didn’t feel like that. If anything, it simply felt awkward.

“Babe? Who’s at the door?” The bluenette, still stuck on her knee from her proposal, called out to her now fiancee.

As the two blondes walked into the main area of the apartment, Sera raised a curious eyebrow. “Uh, do I want to know what’s going on here?”

Sighing, the modelesque blonde buried her head in her hands. On feeling the metallic band decorating her ring finger, she presented it for her mother to see.

“Mom. Chloe just proposed to me…” The words seemed odd but in the best kind of way. It made her feel giddy, although she did her best to hide it. “And I said yes.”

It was hard to get a read on the older woman, although her expression did shift slightly - a very mild shock. Barely noticeable to most. Rachel was good at reading people, picking up on those very subtle hints. She’d spent a lot of time observing others, trying to understand, also learning how to keep her own feelings outwardly hidden.

With everything that had happened recently, the latter was getting harder and harder to do. To an extent, she was okay with that. Before, it felt like she _had_ to mask it all. Even the thought of letting her guard down - being herself, whoever that girl really was - _terrified_ her. It still did, but… maybe she just cared less now.

As Chloe’s fingers finally found the release to the latch that locked her knee in place, she began to stand up. The movement turned out more graceful than expected, turning around in the same motion.

“Mom wh...” her voice faltered momentarily as she realized who the other voice belonged to, “who...?”

A soft but sincere smile fell across Sera’s lips. “Am I to presume then that you must be the very same Chloe who just proposed to my daughter?”

The question wasn’t biting or accusatory; if anything, it was playful. Hesitant blue eyes met searching gray ones. Confirming. No need for words, they understood what the other was thinking at that moment. _Perfectly._

As far as Rachel would ever know, Chloe had never met Sera.

Three years had passed them by since their first meeting. The bluenette never did manage to work up the courage to tell Rachel what transpired in the abandoned lumber mill. Never strong enough to reveal the secrets… expose her lie.

Then, the _incident_ happened. Her priorities had drastically shifted, more important things to worry about. Life and death.

Their own life and death.

Then Max’s...

Shuddering in an attempt to stop that particular train of thought, Chloe took a few tentative steps towards the birth mother of her now fiancee, extending her hand in an attempt to initiate a handshake.

“Chloe Price, ma’am. Pleasure to meet you.”

Without any warning, both the punk and the model found themselves being pulled into a hug by the heavily tattooed woman. Something seemed to have given way, breaking past the tough exterior that Sera had come to embody. In the aftermath, it left this now shaking woman, holding them both almost impossibly tight.

The newly engaged pair were so shocked that it took several moments before either of them noticed the soft heaves, indicating the woman was sobbing.

“Mom, let’s sit down. It’s okay, I promise.” The blonde instantly went into caretaker mode, slowly guiding the woman who had left such a marked impact on her teenage years - without even having been present - towards their couch, helping her sit.

It was only when Chloe, who had gone and gotten a glass of water, came back that Rachel looked away from her mother. At that moment, she realized that there were tears in the corners of her own eyes, threatening to fall down her cheeks.

For years, she had used her ability to fake cry to her advantage. As an actress, it had been an indispensable skill.

Since April, not one of her tears had been faked. Every last one of them was real.

Every last one of them had true emotions behind them.

These happened to be somewhere between happiness and sadness both.

“Mom... What... What made you come to see me after all this time?” The question had begun to burn its way into her mind from the moment that she’d opened the door, and while her timing may not have been perfect, she needed the answers.

Looking up from her hands, the once junkie sniffed loudly, trying to calm her emotions even slightly. Dark grey orbs met hazel ones, fixed on one another.

“After everything that happened the last time I tried to come see you...” The words she used distinctly avoided mentioning the things James Amber had done to try to keep his daughter from her mother, “I thought it was my fault you got hurt... So I stayed away. I tried everything I could to put you out of my mind because I couldn’t let my attempts to see you get you hurt again.”

It was obvious that the words weren’t easy for Sera to admit. What she perceived as her own mistakes had crippled her drive to know her own daughter. Honestly, she regretted leaving it this long… until it was almost too late.

Swallowing hard, she continued shakily, “But this year, when Thanksgiving rolled around, I caved... I kept thinking about how much I just wanted to have you there with me, as a family, and so I started to look you up again. I figured, now that you were nineteen, your father wouldn’t have as much weight on your decisions… That’s when I found the articles talking about that…” Her words faltered, fists clenching as a white hot _hatred_ burned deep - both aimed towards the sick fuckers who had hurt her daughter… and herself. “That _place_... And I knew that I had to come to you. I had to put the money together, and take the next bit of time off that I had to come see you.” She paused, having to prepare herself for what she was about to say.

Even when she stopped talking, Rachel didn’t say a single word. Breaths were hard enough to get out, let alone sentences or even a single syllable. She felt winded, throat closing up and restricting.

How was she even supposed to react to this? All she could do was listen.

“Twice now, Rachel, I have nearly lost you forever, my own daughter, without getting to ever truly meet you. I realized something. I can’t afford to let the universe try a third time.” Sera’s hand slowly rose from her lap to cup her daughter’s cheek. “You’re one of the most precious people this world will ever see. That much I could tell when I saw the two of you in that play three years ago. I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long to find a way to meet you anyway.”

Chloe, for her part, kept off to the side, giving the two women some space. Hearing the way that Sera had slightly rewritten how things had gone three years prior told the punk something very important: She and Sera would forever share a secret conversation that Rachel would never be able to know about. One that - should it ever come to light - would destroy any trust that her angel had in her.

_In anything._

Oblivious to the secret understanding, Rachel stared at her mother for the longest time. Silent. This all felt so sudden. Like everything over the past few months. Just when she had even a second of stability, something came crashing in to topple it. Security built on shaky foundations.

Her lips parted slightly, hovering open. Waiting for the right words to just… appear. Very few things made her truly speechless; she could count the times on one hand.

“I…” That first stuttered response broke her inability, paving the way for a broken sentence. “...wish you had… decided to come sooner…”

Both Sera and Chloe winced slightly, knowing the truth. “I know. Yet another regret of mine. But…” A sad smile tugged at her lips. “Even without me around, you managed to get to this point. And, while it’s been…” Eyes darted between Chloe and Rachel, taking in the lingering damage of the past. “...clearly difficult, you’re still here. It’s not always easy to keep on going after you’ve been knocked down that far.” Her voice was little more than a whisper by the end.

The bluenette’s mind wandered back to the day she met Sera. That asshole sticking her with a needle, undoing a whole year of self-restraint and determination. If anyone knew what it was like to lose all hope, to have everything taken away from you in the blink of an eye and forced to build yourself back up from nothing, it was Sera.

Rachel glanced over at Chloe, feeling some of the confusion fade away. “It’s not like I did it alone.”

“Doesn’t make it any less of an achievement,” Sera pointed out, turning her attention back to Chloe. “Now, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

Trying not to react to that blatant lie, the bluenette nodded. “Now would probably be a good time.”

Shaking away most of the astonishment, Rachel took it upon herself to lead the more official meeting. It was funny really. She’d imagined this day for… years. In every way, the reunion with her mother had destroyed her expectations.

“Chloe, this is my… mom, Sera. We heard a little about her from my dad before.” The punk nodded silently, worried that if she spoke, she’d give the game away. “Mom, this is Chloe. My…” Rachel paused, letting reality sink in again, “fiancee of,” she glanced at the wall clock, watching the seconds tick by for a moment, “less than an hour, as you heard before.”

“That’s quite the introduction,” Sera replied with a wry smile. “I must admit, I… didn’t quite expect that.”

“Well…” Rachel caught Chloe’s eye for just a second. “Neither did I, in all honesty. Some people are full of surprises.”

Sera first looked at her daughter, then the blue-haired girl. Her gaze was intense, searching. It made Chloe feel a little unsettled, like she was being analyzed somehow. That one meeting with the older woman three whole years ago could hardly prepare her for… this situation.

Noticing the increasing tension, Sera spoke up to put the girl’s mind at ease. “It’s nice to meet you, Chloe.”

“Uh, yeah. Same,” Chloe managed, clearing her throat.

“And Rachel, I am truly glad that I finally have the chance to know you, to know my daughter as the beautiful young woman you’ve grown up to become.” She smiled softly at the younger blonde, taking her daughter’s hand in her own, squeezing it softly.

“Me too, Mom.” Rachel’s response was barely more than a whisper, yet it held just as much raw emotion.

Turning to grab the bag she’d brought in with her from the floor, Sera shifted the topic somewhat, in a hopeful attempt to uplift the room. “I did actually bring the both of you something today, actually.” She reached into her bag, pulling out two wrapped boxes.

Facing back to her daughter, she placed one of the boxes - the smaller one - into the young woman’s hands.

“Rachel, I want you to know that whatever the need and whatever the circumstances, you are not only always welcome in my life, but you’re also welcome in my home.” The words held a certain weight that was matched by what the model held in her hands.

Slowly pulling the paper off of the box, revealing something not too dissimilar to the box her engagement ring had come in. As she lifted the lid, there was a soft gasp that came from her lips.

“Mom, is this...?” she asked, unable to finish the sentence.

Sera nodded, “I haven’t been there for practically your entire life. In your shoes, I’d have trouble believing that I would stay. So I needed something to give you to prove that I’m not going anywhere, that you can always find me and see me.”

She watched as her daughter pulled a copy of the key to her home from the box. Along the top edge of the key was an engraving.

_2528 S Sawyer Ave, Chicago, IL 60623_

Rachel frowned, hazel eyes flickering back to the platinum blonde woman. “Mom?”

“It’s… the key to my house. I moved away from Arcadia a while back now. Needed to get the hell out of there for various reasons.” Sera paused, uncertain for just a second. “Anyway, it’s about time you visited.” She passed Chloe a meaningful smile. “ _Both_ of you.”

The blue-haired punk caught her eye, before shifting her focus back on Rachel. “What do you think?”

Honestly, the blonde was too overwhelmed to even think. This was all she had wanted. To see her mom. Now, here she was. Not _only_ was Sera here, but was encouraging her to visit. A total 360 on the previous state of affairs.

“I… think that would be great actually,” Rachel managed, still blown away.

Her tentative yet definite answer made the older woman smile. No longer awkward, just… genuinely happy. At peace, even. For the first time in… years. So many years.

Then, her eyes wandered over to the other box. It was slightly bigger than the first, enough to warrant holding with two hands. Carefully, knowing the item inside was potentially breakable, Sera held it out to the bluenette.

“And this one is for you, Chloe.”

“Me?” Chloe examined the wrapped box, wondering just what Sera could have gotten her.

Curious, she began unwrapping the present in her usual impatient fashion, ripping it to shreds in seconds. What she uncovered surprised her. The box had a picture of a camera, the words ‘Sony CyberShot DSC-W800 Compact Camera’ branded on it. Her initial instinct was to wince, memories of the night of hell coming to mind, but then she remembered her dad’s love of photography… Max’s...

Noting her hesitation, Sera paused. “I wasn’t sure about this gift at first but…” Her expression shifted, more guarded. “It felt… right? It’s hard to explain. But I figured you could make some amazing memories with it. Something _worth_ remembering. If it’s not right then…” The sentence faded into silence, waiting.

Chloe looked down at the box in her hands. Cautiously, she opened the box and inspected the small black camera. It wasn’t anything really fancy, but it was decent. She knew a little about photography, thanks to her father and friend. Not as much as she would like…

“Thank you, Sera,” she said with a slight smile. “We’ll use it to do that.”

The older woman let out an audible sigh, relief spreading through her. “Good… good.”

Glancing over at Rachel, Chloe cleared her throat. “Well, how about we take it for a spin now?”

Sera watched her move closer to Rachel, then beckoning the older woman over. Confused, she shuffled closer to them. Giving them both a contemplative look, she tentatively moved Rachel closer to her mother then took a step back, camera in hand.

“I think it’s high time you two had a picture, don’t you think?”

Rachel and Sera exchange a single glance, one which transcended words. While awkward at first, they leaned in closer. The bluenette waited, giving them some time to acclimatize to being beside each other.

Taking a few more steps back - still a little uneven in her footing with her new framework - the punk brought the camera up to her face, looking through the viewfinder. She messed with the focus options a little bit, then grinned.

“Say _cheese!_ ”

The flash went off, illuminating the room completely. Chloe looked down at the screen of the camera to see how the picture came out, seeing two smiling faces. She began to form a grin of her own until a flutter of motion in front of her caught her attention.

“Rachel, are you okay?” The genuine tone of concern in Sera’s voice immediately squashed any doubt that the woman was here for any reason other than to rebuild a relationship with her daughter.

Glancing at the shorter of the two blondes, the bluenette realized that her fiancée had stumbled, and was now being held by her mother to stand.

“Babe, what’s going on?” she asked, her own voice exuding worry.

Swiftly guided over to the couch, the model sat down before answering. “I’m fine, I just... I wasn’t expecting the flash and... and...”

Hazel orbs found sky blue ones, a single look saying everything it needed to about the memories that had suddenly begun to flood the young woman’s mind.

“It’s okay, I understand,” was all the punk needed to say.

Rachel looked up at her mother seated beside her and leaned in, wrapping her arms around Sera, who in turn held her daughter tightly.

Taking a seat of her own, but leaving the two women to bond on this honestly miraculous Christmas day, Chloe smiled contentedly.

_Every good thing was worth holding dear._

* * *

_13:22, Thursday 2nd, January 2014 - Office of Jacqueline Smith:_

“So, how did your holidays go? Did you have a good time?” Jacqueline’s beaming smile welcomed the newly engaged couple as they walked into the office.

Chloe glanced over at Rachel, waiting to see what she would say. It wasn’t her place to mention Sera.

The blonde hesitated, communicating with a subtle nod. “It was... quite a ride, really.”

Rachel cautiously explained everything that happened to them, ending on the surprise meeting with her mother.

Jacqueline kept her usual calm throughout the story, congratulating them on their engagement when the time came. However, upon hearing that the blonde’s mother had shown up, there was a definite shift in her demeanor, as if the mention of this person had struck a particularly deep chord. As always, her reaction was hard to pinpoint but for once, it was noticeable.

When the conversation came to a natural pause, Jacqueline took her chance to ask a question, briefly re-directing the flow. “Rachel, if I might interrupt, when was the last time you’d spoken to your mother?”

The model sat there for a moment, taking her lover’s hand and squeezing softly.

“The technical answer? I’ve never really spoken to her before. She was out of my life before I could talk. About three years back, she came to Arcadia. Actually, around the same time that Chloe and I started our friendship. I never spoke to her though, only saw her from a distance. That’s when I found out who she was.” Her voice seemed muted somewhat at the thought that Sera had been gone for so much of her life, but then she thought to the key that now hung on her own set. “She apologized, a lot. I think she really does want to be in my life now.”

Nodding softly, the therapist steepled her hands together, resting her chin softly in the crook of her fingers. “So then, it seems to me, that with your mother back in the picture, Rachel, and with you back on your feet, Chloe, you find yourselves at a point where you can decide between several different paths forward. The question is, which way will you go?”

In sync, the pair frowned slightly, their eyes meeting seconds later. They had given the future some thought, but honestly they were just trying to focus on there here and now. Enjoy the moment’s respite, one they really deserved.

Jacqueline smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. You won’t have to choose everything now. When the time comes, it’ll be clear.” Her expression faltered slightly. “Nobody knows what the future holds, but we can steer it in any direction we want. It just takes determination, which you two have to spare.”

The girls both let out a simultaneous breath neither had realized they were holding. Thoughts of the future, though, were certainly something they needed to consider. The doors were wide open, and they sure as hell weren’t about to let the world bring them back down again.

Chloe - having kept mostly quiet during their session - decided to pipe up finally, running a hand through her hair, longer than it had been in years.

“Babe, before the future though, let’s at least get this wedding done, okay?”

The laughter of all three women could be heard from down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes:
> 
> **TjwCroft - Okay, first and foremost, I owe everyone here a pretty huge apology for going off the grid. I’ve been super super busy with life. In the last six months, I’ve crashed a car and got incredibly lucky by walking away with just a few cuts, I’ve gone through some really tough times emotionally, have had plenty of time away from home for both jobs, and now, just to add on, I’m starting out a relationship. So, suffice it to say, some things had to take a bit of a back seat for a while. Unfortunately this is one of them. So, folks, let’s hope that things slow down somewhat here in the next several months so NYCP and I can get more of this wonderful couple to you!**
> 
> NYCP - I will try to get that whip cracking on both of us XD until next time!


	11. What?...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What?...

_Cool stuff:_

_**Where is this?**_                                                                                            ** _Help!?_**

****__

**_Is that a bridge in the distance?...                 The Cape Meares, Oregon Lighthouse, Near Tillamook, OR, inspiration for the wonderful Arcadia Bay._ **

****__

_**Looking past the Lighthouse to the sunset over the Pacific...       The Cape Meares Arches, a part of my lovely cross-continental road trip!** _

__

**_Hi, it's Me, TjwCroft! I recently took a really cool trip from Indiana to Oregon and back!_ **

 

_27745 @^, !(($ - 76484 76468, 2786742, 679466:_

_“Ooof!”_

There was a feeling she hadn’t felt in almost five years beneath her. Gritty yet soft, soothing and hard to land on all the same.

Sand.

There was a sound she’d learned to ignore long ago because it hurt to remember.

Peaceful waves, lapping on a beach.

There was a scent that reminded her of childhood and more carefree times.

The smell of the ocean. Fresh, salty air that seemed so clean to breathe.

So she opened her eyes.

It was the middle of the night. There were stars aplenty and even more noticeably, the moon was completely full.

She looked around, seeing that she was on a beach, facing what she could only imagine was the Pacific Ocean. There were jutting landmasses extending to the horizon, with a gap in between. The moon shimmered slightly off the water, which drew her attention to something bobbing on the surface.

Or, well, more like sinking.

It looked like her dad’s car.

Reaching into her pocket she found her cell phone. No service...

She could hear cars behind her, going along a bridge she noticed as she turned to her left. To her right, she could tell there was a city.

Why couldn’t she remember where she was?

A warm liquid dripped down from her nose, prompting her to bring her hand to touch it. Her fingers were met with something sticky.

Blood.

More than she felt very comfortable with.

She stood up to go try to find help. Someone. _Anyone._

Suddenly, she felt a surge of pain course through her brain. At that moment, she found her world going somewhat black and sideways. Before she could even react, her body crumpled and hit the ground hard. Out cold.

 

* * *

 

_27745 @ &, !(($ - 26586242 63667425 46774825: _

She opened her eyes again to bright lights coming in and out in front of her.

Above her?

Instinctively, she shut them again. The pinpricks of light still persisted, feeling like they were burned into her retinas. Eventually they faded into darkness once more and she worked up the courage to open them again. _Slowly._

Everything was shaking, and she felt like she might be laying down. Her vision was blurred, gradually getting clearer the longer she kept them open. They did sting a little, feeling drier than they should. Her throat, too.

“Where... where am I…?” she finally croaked out, barely able to force the words out of her parched throat.

It sounded like she was chewing on a bunch of gravel, too hoarse. If it hadn’t come from her own mouth, she’d swear it was someone else’s voice.

Someone stood over her, looking down at her with a half smile, half frown. Who was it? Why were they here? A flicker of panic sparked in her mind, trying to provide all the answers.

“Good morning, ma’am. You’re at Columbia Memorial Hospital. You were in a car crash. Do you remember anything that happened?” the voice was male, but she couldn’t make out too much of his facial features.

“Morning... what? I don’t remember a car crash...” she groaned, feeling a sharp pain still in her head.

It took everything she had to stifle to string of curses. None of this felt real or right. Too hazy. _She shouldn’t be here._ That thought was screaming in her head over and over again.

Moments later, she heard echoey voices again as everything went black.

 

* * *

 

_766394373, 76639436...:_

The world was a blur, colors melting into one. Things that seemed like memories that she couldn’t remember came floating. Things she could remember from her childhood hit her like trains.

A blonde and a bluenette sat together on the hood of an old beat up truck.

The bluenette was having some confrontation in a bathroom.

The blonde seemed alone in a dark place...

A vibrant blue butterfly flapped its wings...

Once...

Twice...

...

 

* * *

 

 

_27745 @ &, !(($, 26586242 63667425 46774825, 2786742, 673466: _

When she finally came to again, she was in a dimmer room. A faint but consistent beep echoed through her head.

She opened her eyes, finding herself in a hospital recovery room. To her left, there was a young man sat down and asleep in one of the chairs. He was obviously a doctor, given the scrubs and white coat.

“Sir...” she croaked out, throat dry. “Sir, excuse me…?”

He finally stirred, looking up, while his eyes widened considerably.

“You’re awake! How do you feel?” he asked, clearly dazed as he got to his feet. “I’m doctor John Smith. I’m your attending doctor. Do you know what the date is? I’m worried about that head wound you were dealing with this morning.”

She looked down at her hands, connected to what looked like somewhat dated medical tech, and then back up at John.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t,” was the only answer she could give.

Just being here felt extremely uncomfortable, her skin crawling. Too warm, too out of focus. She needed to get out of here. Where would she go?

“It’s April twenty-seventh, nineteen ninety four.” The words echoed around her head, taking a moment to sink in.

She gripped the sheets of the bed tightly. Something wasn’t right. There was no possible way that she could be in the nineties. Something must be horribly wrong. Not only that... she wasn’t even supposed to be _alive_ for another year and a half…

Fear slowly began consuming her. _She_ **_really_ ** _shouldn’t be here._

“Do you remember your name?” he asked, sensing the uncertainty that must be crossing her face.

Somehow, she managed to push the panic to the background long enough to register the question. Releasing the fabric in her hands, she tried to calm down. Whatever this situation was that she’d found herself in needed a clear head.

_Don’t tell him your real name, don’t tell him your real name._

She pulled her great grandmother’s name out of the air, trying to think fast on an answer.

“ _Jacqueline_. Jacqueline Caulfield.”

For the first time in her adult life, Maxine Caulfield had no clue what was going on...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes:
> 
> *TjwCroft: Hey guys. So, attatched to this chapter, you’re going to find a series of pictures. Can you guess where they are from? I actually recently took a really cool cross country road trip, and got to visit some of my most favorite places in the world. And yes, that selfie is me. Also, yes, I know this is short, but there's reasons for that.
> 
> ADDITIONALLY: Can you decipher the code?*
> 
>  
> 
> *NYCP: An interesting one this time, huh? See you guys around next time!*

**Author's Note:**

> And here... We... Go...  
> I don't know how okay I am right now, and I don't know how okay I'll be when this is over... I might not be okay at all... I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Currently no idea on total length nor rate of release.  
> -TjwCroft
> 
> So... that happened. And the 'fun' has just begun.  
> -Nothing_You_Can_Prove


End file.
